OF DREAMS AND RINGS
by Rufferto
Summary: .ON HOLD. Hurt/Comfort. Frodo and a special Elleth are tied together through the Ring. Written with Frodo Baggins of Bag End.
1. Birth of the Last Seer Sept 2616

OF DREAMS AND RINGS  
  
DISCLAIMER : Tolkien Characters are owned by Tolkien. I don't make any money from this and don't plan to.  
  
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This is a story about Frodo and Gailethil, two characters that were initially separated by time and who come together through the One Ring. It is an Alternate Universe. A different version of the Lord of the Rings based on the original story.  
  
Please Read and Review It is Slightly Alternate Universe.  
  
-Thank-you-  
  
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"OF DREAMS AND RINGS"  
  
There is a Elleth Seer who lives in Rivendell, someone who dreams of the future, and what will be. Her fight with the shadows draws her to the Ringbearer and together they struggle though they have never met….yet….this is her Story…and what it means to be something you don't want to be.  
  
CHAPTER ONE The Birth of the fifth child of Lomendil "The Nights Heart" descended from Melian during the second age "Year 2618", 350 years before the birth of the RingBearer. The 22nd of September.   
  
Midnight was close to passing in the halls of House Firespring as three elves stood together. Lomendil Firespring, his son; Naridril Firespring, and Elrond Perethil. All had been waiting this moment in agitation for some time for within the chambers of the Lord of the House his lady wife; Torialas Firespring was with Galadriel of the Lorien, suffering through complications had been expected.   
  
Elrond laid his hand on the master scribe's shoulder, a comforting touch. "They will both survive, my friend." He was not troubled by that, but something else that had haunted his thoughts since they knew the fifth was coming. Her birth had been foreseen, and that made her special. He worried for Torialas, Lomendil's wife, and was not certain how she would be able to deal with a baby like this.  
  
Naridril paced back and forth, his hands wrapped together anxiously. Lomendil's son was one of the most renowned blade smiths in Rivendell. His work with Mithril legendary, and the time that he had spent in service to Perethil was a length that could never be ignored.   
  
Lomendil gripped the balcony, looking desperately up at the stormy skies that seemed to obscure every star, and even the moon. "Its so dark." his voice caught in his throat as white lightning crackled in the clouds but still no water fell. He yearned to find even a single star, but nothing broke free in the sky. He was a tall striking elf, his ash blonde hair falling down below his waist the sides braided expertly. His steady eyes were misty green, sparkling like a pond under the moonlight. He wore ebony robes decorated with silver ivy-like patterns in contrast to Elrond's silvery white. Lomendil carried himself delicately, a walker and a scribe, his frame tall and slim, steady yet taunt..  
  
Naridril stopped in his pacing and let his hands fall to his sides, "I cannot like this…there's a fell wind about, father. I fear for my sister who is not yet with us." The blade smith gazed up at the lightning with a nervous frown. He was blonde, like his father, but his hair was shorter, and a darker shade of blonde. His eyes glinted with the azure color of his mother's and he had the build of a warrior, strength and speed on his side.  
  
Elrond had felt the clouds brewing for some time, but had not spoken at great length with his old friend. He'd brought Galadriel to calm Lomendil's wife Torialas who suffered from madness on occasion…and this time…she had to be calm…for the sake of her daughter. "Galadriel will keep them both safe, my friend." he assured Lomendil.   
  
Elrond watched as icy fingers tried to claw their way into his Valley. They wanted whatever was coming into this world tonight…he could feel it in his bones. They sought to break through every ward, spell and spirit that protected his people for the soul that was on its way. The threat was present, and he knew that no matter what…he had to make sure that the Elvin Soul that came to Rivendell this day did not fall to the shadows. He looked back at Naridril, his blade master. He had been so since the battle with Sauron, but soon he would have to leave, something was calling him too from the Valley. Would the power of the Valley be enough to protect the newborn?  
  
Bloodcurdling screams broke through the night as the lady of House Firespring.struggled with her burden. Aided with the hands of Galadriel, a calming force that would not be denied the stroke of midnight came forth and rain began to fall like a torrent. The three Elvin lords backed away from the balcony when they heard the sounds of a baby crying and Lomendil met Elrond's eyes. "Can you feel it?" Elrond nodded, and so they waited…  
  
Not for long, for Galadriel was soon standing with the baby in her arms bathed in light though the shadows struggled around her. The small bundle in her arms was still and calm, a quiet babe. "She's here." The ring sparkled on the slender finger of the beautiful elvin sorceress as she looked into* Lomendil. "Your Last One is here…and she is already having her first dream. Torialas lives…but she is now resting."  
  
The Three Elvin Lords stepped forward to view the small angelic child that rested in the arms of one of the most powerful sorceress' in Middle Earth. Lomendil drew a small pendant from his pocket and slipped it around the child's neck fondly. It was the symbol of his house, a fire carved from mithril, surrounded by silver that represented water. "My dearest." he touched the baby's cheek, but she did not open her eyes. "Why does she not open her eyes?" he asked Galadriel suddenly.  
  
"She is caught in a dream, Lomendil. From time to time that will be, and you must learn to guard her from them. She is a special child to this realm, for she will give hope to those who have none. See…she is dreaming…she will awaken soon." Galadriel's words came from deep within the powerful sorceress. Her eyes glittered with scattered constellations as she looked down at the child in her arms, one so young…should not have to deal with dreams so soon.  
  
…water…so much water…too much water…she couldn't reach the one she was with as she stretched out her hands grasping and gasping for breath. She was drowning…drowning with her husband somewhere…nearby…was he dead too?…but what of their baby?…how would he live…who would love him…care for him…feed him and cloth him…who would tell him when the time came of his heritage?… who would hold him close in her arms and keep him safe…death was coming…but what was that light…what was that hand that was reaching out…crying…it was someone…then…just before she died she knew…her baby would be taken care of….her baby would be safe…her baby would be…  
  
"Naneth…!" the baby whimpered as her beautiful eyes opened, bathed in fear. The small elvin child curled into Galadriel's arms shivering. Rain poured down in torrents and Elrond, Lomendil and Naridil all peered at the girl and she reached out to take Lomendil's finger in her little hand. Lightning crackled through the sky, bathing the land in sudden, bright light, then fading.   
  
"Gailethil…" Lomendil named his child…'Bright spring.' He looked to the Master of Rivendell for approval and so it was given.  
  
Elrond smiled warmly, though his heart held mixed thoughts regarding the baby. His eyes met Galadriel, both of them had been having the same dream. He glanced down at her ring, and she nodded wordlessly. "Welcome to Rivendell, Gailethil." his expression soft as he touched the baby's forehead with a kiss.  
  
…Mama…another voice in another dream far away…far in the distant future…the voice cried out ..Dadda…someone watched…someone silent…someone far away…  
  
Tears ran down Galadriel's cheeks perhaps for the first time in a millenia. All they could do now is wait. 


	2. The Dark Haired Boy Dec 2616

"OF DREAMS AND RINGS"  
  
CHAPTER TWO Torialas, Gailethil's mother paints while Gailethil is untended in her cradle. "Year 2618", 350 years before the birth of the RingBearer. The 30th of December.  
  
"Stop Crying! Stop Crying! Stop Crying!" Torialas glared at the baby who whimpered in the cradle. She had not been an easy child to bear, and the beautiful elleth who carried her into the world had known the greatest pain that she had ever felt in her life. She had fallen into madness, and only just barely…just barely hung on to sanity. She had cursed the baby's father a thousand times over…she wanted to leave…but he had insisted upon waiting until the Last was born. Tall and stunning, Torialas Firespring was one of Arda's most pleasing creatures…in form alone. Her hair glimmered in the candle-light, her eyes a sparkling azure. She did not know where the baby's eyes had come from. Ice-Blue…not like Lomendil's murky green, or her own.   
  
She feared those eyes, they seemed to look into her…like Galadriel had before she returned to Lorien. Torialas had been revered for thousands of years for the splendor of her looks. The baby in the cradle…was almost ethereal in nature…and her mother shivered. Finally, after so many long years of waiting the Last was born and she could leave Arda. How many times had she begged Lomendil to let them go, but he was steadfast and refused to abandon what fate had decreed.   
  
Torialas reached down to lift the baby up, but felt a shudder of revulsion run through her. It was not that the baby was ugly, or that she did not have any less love for this child than any of her others. It was something…else. Something that lurked in the air. The stopped sniveling for a moment to look at the being that stood over her cradle. "Naneth…" it was a statement, not a request, or a desire to be held. The look in the small child's eyes was unfathomably disturbing. It was as if she could not understand something and was striving to ask questions before she could even speak properly. Torialas backed away from the child and returned to her painting. Dark waters…the sea that she longed to go to. It almost seemed that Gailethil was watching her paint…seeing something in the waters…the crying had subsided…for now and the Elleth painter sighed in relief.  
  
….Naneth…I looked at her…but did not understand…Naneth was dead…I saw her drown…I heard the cries when she died…I looked across and saw a dark-haired boy with tossled curls resting his arms on the cradle…he looked like an elf…like one of us…but he wasn't…his deep blue eyes searching mine for a meaning…he did not understand either…and he had been crying for days…he did not even really seem to see me…I could tell… while the other Naneth painted…but he stayed with me…Who are you?…I wanted to know…where are you?….I wanted to be understood…I cried a little again…grasping at the air…so small…so helpless…and something watched both of us…it had no form…I looked over at the boy again…but he was gone…and I began to cry in earnest….earning a dark look from the one who called herself my Naneth…  
  
Torialas was cold, and had been cold since the birth of Gailethil. Lomendil stepped into her studio and drew a shawl around his wife's shoulders holding her gently for a moment. No words were said, and he settled her back down. The Elvin lord went to his child and lifted her in his arms, rocking her gently, his back to his wife. "Its all right, now." the soft words from his lips for both the woman he loved, and the baby in his arms. "Everything is all right now."  
  
"How can you say that?" Torialas demanded her eyes filling with tears, "Nothing is right about her!" the high-strung elleth then picked up her skirts and ran away…crying. Lomendil did not stop her, he had long since known the best way to deal with Torialas was to let her be alone when she wanted to be alone.  
  
"There now…" he held the baby in his arms and soothed away the tears, his gentle voice singing softly   
  
  
It went something like this…  
Gwimla, Gwinla, Tithen Gail  
Ye Aida an?  
Or Arda Taur  
O Silivrin Mithril Dai  
Gwimla, Gwinla, Tithen Gail  
Ye Aida an? "  
  
It seemed to soothe her and her fingers curled around the pendant that hung on a chain about her neck. Her eyes sparkled up at her father. "Adar." she knew who he was…though she wondered why she knew that when "Naneth" did not feel right. She curled up in her father's arms, playing with a lock of his hair. He smelt nice…and rythmatic gentle voice was putting her to sleep.  
  
As her eyelashes fluttered, Lomendil continued to sing. He watched his daughter struggle to keep awake in order to listen and smiled softly. She really was a special little one. He only hoped that someday Torialas would be able to deal with everything that had happened. His wife was slowly going insane, he'd known it since the birth of their first child, since Galadriel had warned them of the five that would come. He took his daughter out to the balcony and allowed the sun to shine its gentle rays down upon her. "I know not what is in store for you, little one." he told her softly, "I pray that Elbereth has a kind future in mind for you. I saw in the mirror many things…and maybe…just maybe…" he did not finish his words as he saw the little one yawn and her eyes close finally as she rests…without dreams. Elves do not sleep, but children need to close their eyes on occasion.  
  
The ancient Elvin lord walked back to the cradle, his feet made barely a sound upon the stone floor. Before he lay the child down he froze…the hair on the back of his neck tingling and he turned around. "Whose there?" In a sudden swift motion, he already held a sharp dagger in his hand, his baby close to his heart. But nothing came forth…he had felt…perhaps he was mistaken. Glancing back again, he sheathed his dagger and curled the small child back into her bed, tucking the blankets around her.   
  
As he walked out of the studio, Torialas was at the door with her maid, she seemed a lot calmer. His back to the room…Lomendil did not see the child stir, and that her breath could be seen…for just a moment…as though it was terribly terribly cold. He spoke briefly with his wife while invisible fingers of ice rested on the edge of the cradle.   
  
….Precious…. 


	3. The Journel of Elrond Apr 2617

"OF DREAMS AND RINGS"  
  
CHAPTER TWO "Year 2617", 350 years before the birth of the RingBearer. The 23rd of April  
  
It had been a hard winter…the hardest winter that he had ever seen In the valley. Elrond stood contemplating the past few months since Gailethil's birth with a grim expression. Three had left the valley, and for the first time in a thousand years the garden's flowers had not bloomed when they always did. One of his scribes sat nearby, she was nothing like Lomendil…but she would do. She was nervous, and did not meet his gaze. Young…for an elf…still in her hundreds. Sometimes he wondered about the people who revered him so much. He studied his hand.   
  
"Put the following to record." his voice cut out like a whip. When he noticed the elleth flinch, he lowered his tone to a less harsh demeanor. He was irritable…and had been since he had heard of Torialas' pregnancy…but that was no reason to snap. "April 23rd…2617. Being the Journal of Elrond Perethil, Lord of Rivendell."  
  
"I have mentioned it before, but not at length. It is six months since the birth of Gailethil, the last. The winter has been long and difficult in Rivendell. Three have left..and more I fear…soon to follow. I have spoken with Lomendil Firespring on the condition of his wife. Since she first came to us on his arm I knew that there was blood in her…blood that I did not want to ever have to acknowledge. She is falling to madness…slowly…but surely. I have reports from the guardian I placed at House Firspring. She does not pick up the child. She won't feed her." Elrond paused when he looked to the Elleth who was writing. She seemed to be blinking back tears and his lips curled slightly.  
  
"To be a scribe, Mellon. You must put away your feelings." The Master directed. "Now gather yourself…I will continue."  
  
"Whereas I do not doubt that Torialas loves her children…I fear that she is afraid of this one. The house is too quiet. Naridril's work does not bear the light that it normally does and he will not spend any time with my cousin Drinileth who confessed her love for him to me. I am concerned that a darkness clutches at the heart of Firespring. But Tis time to tell of who they are and how this all came to be." Elrond took a sip of wine before continuing. He looked towards the scribe who was watching him with both a curious eye and an attentive one. So far…she had pleased him and he would go on in her presence.   
  
"It was during the Second Age when he met her. Just before the Rings of Power were made. It was the Spring 1500 when we journeyed through Lorien, and I remember it well. I will remember that year as clear as day until the end of time. We were walking with Galadriel when he saw her tending a shrine to Elbereth. Her radiance was enough to hit both our hearts and we stood there for many moments just watching. Strange…I remember it like that for Galadriel was with us, and it has oft been remarked that hers is the greatest beauty in Arda. But at the moment we saw Torialas…I saw Lomendil's heart stop. I looked to Galadriel who was staring in dismay at Lomendil, and then finally looked back at the elleth who tended the shrine. Somehow…she had diminished in my eyes….but my friend's was still struck, and I knew…he had found the one he loved at last. Galadriel and I both knew. I looked back into the Elleth's eyes and what I saw there turned my heart cold. There was no life in the beauty that cased the tortured soul within. Later, Galadriel explained the horrible truth. Torialas had been cursed for the evil deeds of her brother, and was struck by madness. To her credit…Torialas resisted Lomendil's charm for many years because she did not want to tie him to her curse. She refused him time and again, and it broke his heart. It was 11 years later when we returned to Lorien and he begged her to look in the mirror with him to prove to her what their future would be together, and that they had one." Elrond stopped talking for a long time, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he remembered that time.   
  
He did not continue for so long that the elleth scribe shifted uncomfortably in her chair…wondering whether or not she should leave. The Master of Rivendell turned to study her like one might a curious project. "Do I bore you?" he inquired, his expression impossibly difficult to read.  
  
"No Master Elrond." she shakes her head grimly, her words coming out a mere whisper, a little fear tingles in the back of her eyes. She did not want him angry with her, and yet, she did not think that he was. "I would like to hear the tale…please…"  
  
"All right." he has been standing the whole time, and walks over to pour her a glass of cool red wine. The action is a simple enough one but he manages to make it a great deal more just an Eldar pouring wine. He waits until she sips, smiling briefly when he is certain she is ready to hear the rest of the tale.  
  
"And so…despite her better judgment, Galadriel allowed the viewing. Each was tested...and each saw what was in store. I wish sometimes that she had refused, for if so…perhaps we would never have known and my friend would not have been forced to suffer as long as he has. To fall in love with a mad Elleth…" Elrond shook his head sadly, and his voice wavered with emotion slightly, "The vision gave them only one recourse. They had no other choice but to wed. For in the mirror five children came into Arda from their union. Each one would forge a great purpose in the world and the Last…the most important one of all. The last Fire spring would be Arda's final true seer. She would bring hope to those who have none, and right a terrible wrong. She, descended from a line of Ainur, would be the Last of the first born of that line. Her future was already devised by fate, she was needed for the last age. What will be. And despite protests from both sides of the family…my friend married Torialas the Mad because his love was such that would hold them through all the years of this world, and he brought her to live here in Rivendell."  
  
He sipped his wine and looked out at the clouds that were brewing in the sky once again. "4 were born to the house of Firespring and it seemed…for a time that she would be a calm and loving mother. Her fits were kept quiet, and they stayed from society. Lomendil wrote, and she painted. The son that she bore to him…Naridil…is serving us as a blade smith. And last year, on September the 22nd, the Last came into the world. Galadriel was here for it…and madness has finally taken Torialas. Every time I visit, I can sense that the child is asking me a question, but I do not know what it is. Already intelligence gleams in her eyes, an eager yearning I cannot understand…I might send for Celeborn…perhaps his wisdom will help in this matter. Something wants the child, though, and watches her. I think…through a Planatir. Her room is always too cold. I will send for Celeborn tomorrow."  
  
He looked at the scribe whose hand was trembing in anxious fear. "A Planatir…" her mouth round as her eyes. Elrond nodded. "This must not be said to anyone, do I make myself clear?"  
  
"Absolutely, Master." she quickly finished up a few things and handed him the journel. Bowing swiftly she hurried out of the study as Elrond stood for several moments listening.  
  
….What are you thinking…Elrond…Master of Rivendell…Whatever it is…I'll find out….  
….And where are you … my precious …what era do you see now…I wonder…  
  
A fell wind caressed the borders of Rivendell.   
  
….Someday soon….Naneth will take you….  
  
The baby stirred in her cradle…it was cold…and he was back…the dark haired boy. He was sitting alone against a tree, and tears were running down his cheeks. She shivered, wanting so very much to talk to him…to figure out how to make the tears go away…He looked around suddenly…as though he might have felt her…it was cold…suddenly…very...very…cold… 


	4. Letter From Lorien Jul 2617

"OF DREAMS AND RINGS"  
  
CHAPTER FOUR "Year 2617", 349 years before the birth of the RingBearer. --- Summer (July)  
  
The Midsummer leaves were in full bloom, flowers nestled here and there in the garden and the sun was shining brightly down upon Rivendell. Elrond half-elvin held the letter from Lothlorien in his hands, trembling slightly. Galdariel had fallen ill, and Celeborn was unable to leave her. In all the time that he'd known her, the only time she had ever fallen ill was when the deceiver had revealed the true purpose of the Rings of Power.  
  
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Unto Elrond, (1)Elandili of Rivendell do I Celeborn, Lord of Lorien send greetings.  
  
Your news is ill tidings indeed, my friend A Palantiri can only mean one thing. That the seventh, the  
Ithil-Stone has been found and is being used by hands that should not. You know that they are not all   
accounted for, and in times like these we must be cautious. I will be brief, My Lady, Galadriel has fallen  
ill and it has been so since the summer sun graced our fair woods. I fear that it is not an illness that can   
be cured by normal means. I cannot journey to Rivendell until I am certain that she is well again. I have  
reports of goblins gathering in the woods near the Mines of Moria and have sent a regiment to deal with  
them. Have care what you say from this day forth, Elrond, for now…I feel that someone is watching  
Rivendell with a keen and terrible eye.  
  
(2) Quel marth, Mellonamin.  
  
Celeborn, Lord of Lorien.  
  
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The Master of Rivendel put the letter on his desk and leaned back in his chair, frowning. Goblins. He stood, smoothing his gray coat and went to the window. Leaning on the sill, he gazed out over his beloved Valley.  
  
(3) "Amin nauva berio lle." he swore to the light.  
  
"Father." Arwen stood at the doorway to her study when he spoke those words, holding her slim hand against the edge of the frame. She frowned when she saw how grave that he seemed. "What is wrong? You are troubled.."  
  
And he spoke at length with is daughter…but naught of the events that troubled him. He did not wish to involve her just yet.   
  
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And within the halls of Firespring…trouble was stirring…  
  
She screamed…and screamed…and screamed…while he held her fast in his arms. Her fingers were bleeding from where she had scraped at the stone walls with her nails trying to find what wasn't there. She shivered uncontrollably in his arms, the dancing faces in her mind plaguing her with questions…questions…questions…. too many at one time to even grasp what they were asking her. Her faithful made Adaril was attempting to administer a healing draught to her fingers, but she kept flailing. It was only through Lomendil's tight hold that kept her from further harm due to madness. She was unique in the Elvin lands, but the curse had not been laid upon her without good cause. Her brother…her twin brother…had committed the most heinous crime the elves had ever seen. Her family was thrown into despair, many of them having already left Arda for they could not face the terrible consequences of Orianas's actions. She struggled, and still he held her. His love…a soothing force. His words trying to penetrate the darkness in her mind, trying to bring the light where there was none though she had prayed so long. She hated everything that was in Arda…and so wanted to leave it behind…to finally find peace after so many years of mental torture.  
  
As the screams echoed through the halls of Firespring, a small child's eyes opened to see someone at her cradle once again. He was white and pale…yet once…power and strength had flowed through his mortal veins. The spirit looked at her with a sneer, his crown flickering in the candlelight, his skeletal like form shifted. He could not harm her…not yet. And was he really even there? The white fingers reached towards her and she grasped at the air with her hands. When the spirit connected with her fingers a shiver ran through her…and she saw the boy again. He stood at the far end of the chamber watching. He blinked a few times…as though he might have been either waking from a dream…or wondering where he was. In either case…the ghostly king looked up with a start, curled his lips and vanished.  
  
"Who are you?" the words came from far way as the boy stepped forward towards the cradle. "Where is this place?" he wore simple clothing…black pants, suspenders, a white shirt and a vest…no shoes…Why was he asking her? She could not answer him. She gazed up at him though, her eyes bright and smiling…and she held out her arms. The dark haired boy leant against the cradle…it was cold…very cold to the touch but when he reached down, the baby caught his hand and he was surprised at her warmth. The heat…soured through and into his heart when he saw the smile light up her face. In the distance…screams echoed…everything seemed to be moving very slowly and it was like trying to make his way through jelly…he gazed at the pendant around her neck thoughtfully. "I wonder who you are little one…and why the nightmares always stop when I see you…"  
  
"(4) Meleth." her garbled baby-talk spelt a simple word, but the boy did not understand her. She reached out for him, begging to be held. A sudden fear flickered through his eyes as he felt his heart leap into his throat. He felt himself scoop the small elvin child into his arms. She felt…so oddly right there, insecure as he was. And she took one of his curls and played with it.   
  
He shivered…"Why is it so cold in here?" and he held her close…the only warmth in the room coming from the tiny child in his arms.  
  
….The Ringbearer…And the watcher smiled….so many years to wait…so many years…the time was coming…  
  
…Patience Precious…Time…all we have is time…Naneth is here…  
  
….I see you….  
  
He gave a sharp cry and almost dropped the child….an eye…lidless and breathed in flame…it was coming towards them. The dark haired boy cowered, collapsing near the cradle and shivering in fear.   
  
…I see you….  
  
He didn't know how long he held the baby and cowered from the image of terror, all he knew that somehow…somehow it couldn't get to them. Still…fear clenched his heart and tears fell from his eyes. Why was he having these dreams? Why could he never remember them clearly when he woke?  
  
But just then Lomendil entered the baby's chamber and saw that she was out of her cradle…somehow…he started and glanced around the room quickly. She did not seem to be hurt as he rushed over to her and lifted her into his arms. She seemed…oddly happy as her eyes sparkled gleefully. "Adar…" and she babbled to him in baby speak about the boy who came to her. Even ancient elvin lords did not understand that tongue…all he knew was that something had moved his child from her cradle and from that moment on, he vowed that not a single moment in time would she ever be alone again.  
  
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1.) Half-Elvin 2.) Good Luck, My friend. 3.) I will protect you. 4.) Love 


	5. Bright Eyes Oct 2617

CHAPTER FIVE "Year 2617", 349 years before the birth of the RingBearer. --- Fall (October)  
  
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Elrond had recently received anther letter from Celeborn. Galadriel was no longer ill, but they had problems with Goblins raiding parties. He would not be able to make it to Rivendell until the next Spring. Elrond sat in his study, brooding silently. If the Seventh Seer Stone was indeed found…what could he do? Should he send someone to locate it? Now may not be the right time for action. He would have to consider his choices wisely.  
  
As the months slid by, he felt the presence of someone watching less and less. Once or twice, he'd look over his shoulder, or the hairs on the back of his neck would tingle. But always…only a fleeting moment. He had reports from Firespring that Torialas was normal once again and that the baby was never left alone since it was moved from its cradle. Though as each day passed he saw his friend suffer. Lomendil was torn…and like a plant that had grown too many flowers over the years and was ridden with disease from neglect…he was withering.   
  
The look in his eyes when he thought no one was watching him was terrible to see. To love someone…like Torialas…Elrond could not even begin to understand what his friend was going through, though he had seen it for thousands of years. Eternal hell, and the bounds of the Elvin soul…kept them forever. A cruel fate for one who had once had so much light within him.  
  
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Morning…the sun was shining…but it was a little cold…Torialas was calmly painting. She had not suffered an attack for about three months now and peace seemed to reign in House Firespring for now. She was painting green hills and horses, drawn from her own imagination, and within the watercolor the sun was setting. Sitting nearby, an elleth was stitching, standing guard over both the Lady of Firespring and her child. It would almost have been a picturesque setting with the baby gurgling and playing with the star mobile above her bed.  
  
Lomendil entered the chamber softly, he looked down at the baby and smiled her warmly, though she reached her arms out to him, he first moved over to his wife. Upon the entrance of the elvin lord, the elleth guardian left the chamber. Lomendil laid a hand on his wife's soft shoulder gazing at her intently. She did not look at him, and continued to paint and he watched…the look in his eyes told everything that ached in his soul.   
  
"(1) Melamin." his hand threaded through her hair gently, but did not linger. The words were heartfelt, an emotion that came to him every hour of every day. Still, she did not respond, and continued to paint, humming the tune to a little song in her head. It was often like this. When she was lost in her artwork, she was normally tranquil, but unresponsive. His murky green eyes closed for a moment, enduring…and he lent down and kissed the top of her head. The Lord turned with a heavy heart towards his child who cooed in the cradle and he gathered her into his arms, small and willing to be held.  
  
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…Adar…the baby played with Lomendil's braids, gurgling happily. She squirmed in his arms though…as though straining to get a look at something…nearby…  
  
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From a window, the dark haired boy watched, pain visible in his eyes. Mist surged around him, clouding the perfect vision of the Elvin lord and his child. His small hands clutched the sill as he watched with haunted eyes and something burned at his neck. He reached up, but felt nothing. The baby turned to see him, but though her father looked his way, he knew…he was not seen. She watched him with her blue eyes…staring into the depths of his soul. He felt…drawn…somehow…he wished he could go inside. The Elvin Lord seemed so … loving and natural. Kind…but she frightened him. The woman who painted. She seemed an ethereal presence that was not really supposed to be there….she was never near the baby, or holding her or even looking at her…they never left her alone now, he should not have picked her up perhaps. But wasn't this only a dream? Of course it had to be…he knew they were elves…but not where they were…or who they were. He felt tears coming…unbidden again…as he remembered being held once by his father like the small child was. He wished he knew her name.  
  
*Gailethil*  
  
He started.  
  
The sound came from the back of his mind…had she spoken to him…he stared at the baby. No…she was only a baby…she could not speak. "Gail." he let the name roll over his tongue and it seemed like his own words did not come from where he was…but from somewhere far away.   
  
The Elvin Lord sung the baby back to sleep and rested her in the crib. He went once more to the woman who painted, an expression of great sorrow in his eyes as he kissed the top of her head. Still, she did not respond, and continued to paint. The beauty of the elleth was only a shell…a great façade that captured a soul that longed to be free.  
  
Lomendil was gone, and the guardian had returned, she was once again stitching silently. The darkhaired boy still watched from the window, lost in his own dream. He knew he should go…but he did not want to. He never felt more … alive … when he was here… wherever here was…but he had lingered too long…and as the baby drifted off to sleep…the voices began to come again.   
  
His hand went to his head as his eyes searched for a perpetrator…some meaning…someone or something nearby he could reach out and touch…begging them to stop…he sank down to the ground…tears streaming down his eyes…why did the dreams always end this way?…he clawed at the darkness that seemed to be swallowing him up and awoke…far away…so very very very far away…and the voices were gone.   
  
He could never remember the voices…or what they were saying. He always tried hard to remember and .this time a fleeting image flashed in his mind… a cradle…eyes as blue as a bright winter's day…the gurgling laughter of a baby…what did it mean? He opened his own eyes very briefly looking for them…but when he didn't find them…he shut out the light once again…tears flowing once again…who was she? Where was she? He needed her…  
  
He realized vaguely that he had been sweating for the pillow and sheet was damp. Someone was moving him…He murmured and whimpered in pain…for his neck burned. But when the gentle hands took care of damp sheets and things were soon soft once more…he fell back into a deep quiet slumber.   
  
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(1) My love. 


	6. A light in the darkness Dec 2617

CHAPTER SIX --- 2017 --- Winter --- A Light in the Darkness ---  
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The day was bright and sunny as Lomendil carried his baby girl through the gardens of Rivendell. The tall Elvin Lord had taken solace there for the time being as chilly as it was. The child was shrouded delicately in a couple of thick blankets, and remained toasty warm in her father's arms. It was about noon, as the sun was high. Lomendil's breath was slightly visible as he walked. The expression in his eyes was of timeless pain. Eternity's cruel fate that bound the light of a once shining Lord to the dark soul of madness.   
  
Gailethil was a little over a year and was starting to sense the turmoil between her mother and her father. It was becoming more and more obvious though her father tried his best to ignore it. She gazed upwards, watching him as she curled her fingers into the blanket, and turned to see an elleth standing before them. She had long dark hair with silver streaks in it and bright blue eyes...and a kind face. Her father was talking softly to her in a pain filled tone, the words just jumbled a little around her, she did not understand them.  
  
The secluded corner of the garden was bathed in sunlight and warmth, and there he was again. She gurgled in her fathers arms, trying to get his attention. He hushed her, rocking her gently, but she still saw the boy. He saw her too, gazing through the years and dreams. There was a confused…desperate expression in his eyes and he cried out, trying to come closer. Whatever force was keeping them apart would not allow it…and the shadows swirled around the boy…reaching out with cold icy fingers.  
  
The dull..almost muffled voices of her father and the elleth he was speaking too seemed to fade away, she could see the young boy looking around in complete confusion, his blue eyes were very bright and his face pale and worn…as though he might be ill. Gailethil watched while her father spoke to the older elleth, straining to see the boy…  
  
"You--" He whispered through a parched throat, his lips were dry and chapped…as though he might have not had anything to drink in a while. His eyes vivid with curiosity, he tries to come closer, but finds himself unable to move. "Why--is this happening." he moaned, literally collapsing onto the cold winter ground, his head spinning.  
  
Lomendil looked over…but saw nothing…though he felt that he had heard a voice and frowned. He saw Gailethil looking towards the corner of the garden as though she was seeing something. "What is it? Who's there?" The elvin lord tried to bring his daughters attention away from whatever it was. The gray haired elleth laid a hand on Lomendil's shoulder and shook her head.  
  
"Do not interrupt the vision." her words came only as a muffled wind as dead leaves scattered amidst the snow began to stir and rustle.   
  
"Naneth, you are correct…" Lomendil breathed carefully, his heart heavy with worry as he stroked his little girls head, unable to do anything more than comply. "I can only…let it be…"  
  
The dark haired boy curled into a little ball, shivering from the cold. "So…cold…Please…" he was not dressed for the winter, but that was not why he was cold. He clawed at his neck , and saw her looking at him. "Help me…" he begged.  
  
"Adar…" she cried, squirming in Lomendil's arms trying to get him to move closer. Its very difficult to get someone to understand what you want when you are only a year and two months old.   
  
The gray haired elleth nudged Lomendil and indicated the area that she was staring at. "We must abide by her wishes, my son." she speaks softly in a melodic tone.  
  
Lomendil did not like the idea of fulfilling this particular wish of his daughter's, but there was really nothing he could do about it, and perhaps…he would have to get used to it. The pained expression in the Elvin lord's murky green eyes was more prominent than it had ever been before.   
  
They began to walk towards the small corner of the garden, where the boy lay…staring at them. He somehow…knew that they could not see him, and he could not make out the shadowy features of the two who brought the baby over his way. They were not…cold shadows…but warm and vibrant…shadows of light, featureless and moving with the dream. The only thing that seemed to have any form at all was the baby girl with the bright ice-blue eyes. "Gailethil…" he remembered her name, though whenever he was awake he could never remember…and he gasped slightly as pain wracked through him and something burned his throat. Clawing at it desperately tears fell and he struggled to breathe. They seem to be coming too slowly….far too slowly…  
  
She heard him…her intense eyes piercing through the mist, through the shadows, and through time itself. The scattered future came crashing through a barrier that could not be denied. What might be…what will be…what has been…She couldn't talk to him, she couldn't say much of anything at all…but there was one way that she could help him…the only way…  
  
He was cold…freezing cold…his lips trembling from his frigid, delicate little body. He did not want to go on…he'd had enough pain already in his young life. Why was he so sick all the time…tears caressed his cheeks, falling like rain. It seemed like an eternity while they approached him, and the warmth…the warmth of the three elvin spirits spread through the air as though someone had suddenly lit a roaring fire nearby. He cried out from the shock of it, his fingers digging into the snow.   
  
"Something is there." The gray haired elleth closed her eyes…her words came only as muffled sounds that the boy could not understand. "Can you feel it Lomendil? Can you feel the barrier that binds our world together…its dropped…Someone is playing with it…disturbing it…" she knelt down to the spot that her granddaughter was staring at. "Elbereth protect us all."  
  
Lomendil paled considerably, having never seen such a thing occur. "Why?" he closed his eyes as though wishing that this was not happening. Around them the wind picked up a little, the air became thick…and his hands trembled as he held his daughter close to his heart. "WHY?" his pained voice rang through the Valley in a sudden tortured scream.  
  
Their warmth…their light…seemed to help…plunging through the cold and ripping away at the icey darkness that was trying to get at the boy. He stopped shivering…staring in some wonder at the Baby he did not know. Someone was trying to wake him up..shaking him…he did not want to leave…he was finally becoming warm again…"No…" he held out his arms desperately…almost touching one of the shadowy figures before the hands of time drew him away…  
  
"Bilbo…" the dark haired boy moaned, struggling against the hands that tried to wake him, his eyes fluttering open. "No…" And he dream was gone…far away from his touch…yet the warmth lingered in her eyes…in his heart. He blinked up at his uncle who laid a cold cloth against his forehead and smiled at him anxiously.  
  
"So, you're awake…".Bilbo's voice was clear, unlike the ones from his dreams. He tried to remember…her name…it had come to him…what was it again? The vision was fading fast in his delirious mind. He whimpered, curling up, and did not respond.  
  
….And far away ….the years fell forward like dominos….someone watched, playing with time and space in her tall invisible tower east of Mordor…."A weakness….after all this time…" the female voice sifted about the darkness, her claw-like fingers still letting the vision of the sick hobbit fill the black globe., and then allowing it to go dormant once again….  
  
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Some notes from the Author.   
1.) The dark haired boy is Frodo age 12.  
2.) I don't want to give away all the details, but someone is using the Planetir in a very…wrong way which will result in trouble for Frodo before he is able to go to the Gray Havens and escape ME.  
3.) In this Alternate Universe ME, Frodo has been having dreams of this particular Elleth since his parents died. She's a seer, and they are meant to meet each other in the future. She's his weakness, and what the person using the Planetir has been trying to find for many years..  
4.) Supernatural effects. Frodo and Gailethil are tied through dreams and fate. Gailethil's parents met the year that the rings were made. Gailethil was born on September 22nd. The playing with the planetir is causing the visions to be clearer. And though Frodo would not have remembered all of them before, now he will when they finally meet. Did that make sense class? Okay…if not…just read the story!  
  
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	7. On The Other Side Of The Window Apr 2618

CHAPTER SIX --- 2618 --- Spring (April) --- On the Other Side of the Window ---  
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Gailethil was a year and a half old right now, and measured about a foot and a half feet tall. A cute little bundle with her curly ash-blonde hair and intense bright eyes . She was already walking around on her own and forming semi-coherent sentences. She kept trying to convince her father that she had a friend, a three foot tall boy with dark curly hair and striking blue eyes, wanting to know his name. She'd 'seen' him. She'd long since given up trying to ask her mother for anything for Torialas was as unresponsive as ever and it was often the case that Gail had to find her own amusement.  
  
Gail was never alone through Lomendil's strict orders. She had six elleth who served in Lomendil's household watching her at various times and could not quite identify all of them yet. Its probably why she grew up feeling that she had no real mother…so many females taking care of her.   
  
It so happened one day as birds chirped in the valley on a beautiful spring morning that Gail's playpen was placed near the largest window in her chamber. She stood up with a couple of toys, and set them on the windowsill, a little horse…a little princess doll…a prince doll…a knight and a toy tower…and a large troll doll…Each toy was crafted from wood and painted lovingly. There was also a little dog, and a couple of normally dressed people. She put them all on the top of the windowsill.  
  
On either side of the window was a potted plant that had purple lilacs blooming contentedly in the spring sunlight. She babbled a little to herself as she played with the little people in a singsongy voice as her mother painted in the background and one of her guardians was watching over her kindly, stitching something. Perhaps reliving some tale that her father may have told her, or just simply imagining.  
  
As the hour passed, and she continued to play, she smiled suddenly, looking at the other side of the window. The boy was there and he was watching her. He was not quite so pale or worn from the last time she had seen him, but it was still him, and he was sitting in a lovely garden by himself, just outside…and he was fingering the lilacs. His face paled just a little when he saw her, but softened upon her brilliant smile and eager expression. "Play?"  
  
And he ventured over, cautiously, but curiosity was clear in his features. He seemed healthy enough this time, but it was obvious that he had been getting over something. His face was a little drawn, and his bones a little too easy to see, everything about him was a little too frail. "Where are you?" he asked as he laid a trembling hand on the outside of the open window, kneeling down. He saw the elleth in the room beyond the window, but they did not see him…though he wished they could. He wished with all his heart.  
  
She did not respond to his question, but set up the male figures on his side and the female figures on her side. The animals and monsters in between for both of them to play with. "At home." she answered in a bell-like voice.   
  
He wanted to reach out and touch her…to see if she was real…but something held him back. Something…deep within. Something that he could not understand. He decided that he'd rather not think about it too much and would do what she wanted. He would accept her invitation and play with her, perhaps some understanding would come from that. He knew that she wasn't speaking his language…he knew that somehow he could understand her, but not what it was. "I'm Frodo…" he said suddenly, fingering the knight absently, marveling at the realistic craftsmanship. Twas then that he realized that . "Frodo Baggins. Who are you?"  
  
"Frodo!" she laughed merrily at the name, to her it was silly…like the name a child would give her doll. The elleth who was stitching glanced up as the little girl laughed excitedly. Well…as long as she was having fun…and not getting into trouble. "Gailethil." the word he's heard before, he knew he had but he just could not…remember clearly. He never seemed to be able to when it came to this.  
  
"What are we playing?" Frodo asked softly, his voice a little hoarse, he had recently had a bad case of the flu and his throat was still sore despite the best efforts of his cousins. His uncle Bilbo had stopped by recently, and had been speaking to one of his Aunts, but he had no idea what they were talking about..and really…he didn't care right now. He wasn't sure he cared about anything…yet somehow…the little elleth that wanted to play with him mattered more to him than anything else he'd ever known. He wanted to know…  
  
"A game." she took the princess doll and had her move as though she was walking towards the castle. "You start!" laughing, she plucked a lilac from one of the plants and gave it to him. "Favor…Daddy says all Princesses give them to the prince!" she seemed to consider herself quite wise in the way of royalty and would not be swayed.   
  
Taking a deep breath he took the petal, and felt a strange jolt within him, but it passed away and he shrugged it off. He tucked the petal into his pocket so it was just poking out, and smiled, "There."  
He took the Prince doll and began to fight the ogre who got in the princess' path.   
  
Together they played…the pieces moving around in a merry melody, both laughing, both feeling the warmth of the sunshine and the brilliance of spring. But then…there was a call from somewhere, a pull…and the boy began to fade away before the game was done. And Gailethil began to cry, trying to reach out of the windowsill.   
  
The dark-haired boy lay on the ground in the garden at Brandyhall, one of his cousins bending over him, "Are you all right Frodo…you were out cold…"   
  
He blinked…confusedly…and a bit feverishly…he remembered…feeling sick, but now he felt okay, his tomach had settled. He glanced at his pocket, drawn to it…and there was a purple lilac petal peaking out.   
  
None of the lilac flowers under the window were missing any leaves…though the two cousins did not notice that….and Frodo did not remember where it came from….he must have picked one of the flowers…  
  
"Lets get you to the doctor, c'mon."  
  
Frodo shivered as he rose, he did feel better…and not just better…wonderful. But he didn't really know why, only fleeting images passed through his mind…a laugh…and the touch of warm fingers… But…who? He allowed his cousin to lead him away without resistance, gazing back at the garden with large curious eyes…thinking he'd have liked to remember that dream…"Do we have a cousin named Gail?" He asked his cousin nervously.  
  
The other looked at Frodo with a raised eyebrow, "No…Why do you ask?"  
  
"No reason, its just…well…" he sucked in his breath a little and then sighed. Maybe he was going crazy…or maybe…he just desperately wanted someone who understood him…someone who would treat him…normally. He was frustrated at his relatives in Brandy Hall…too many cousins…and no one really wanted to deal with him…"Never mind, lets go…"  
  
…….. 


	8. A Mithril Light Aug 2618

CHAPTER EIGHT --- 2618 --- Summer (Aug) --- A Mithril Light ---  
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A raging Storm and a foul wind blew torrents of heavy rain through Rivendell...falling trees and threatening to knock down anything that would go out in it. It was unlike any other storm, and all great the elvin lords were involved in a council meeting for they knew something was trying to attack Rivendell with a magic that they had yet to encounter. So Lomendil was not at home to make certain the affairs of his household were kept in order.  
  
Screams flooded the halls of his house, Torialas…and she was taking everyone's attention enough that eyes strayed from the precious little one for only a few minutes, but those few minutes made all the difference in the world. Gail had been cowering in her crib because of the storm...feeling more in the shadows that were surrounding the valley than anyone else. She glanced a couple of times at the storm…and thought she might have seen a shadow creeping towards the window…a misshapen form…and that was all it took…for she was afraid, and she wanted her father.   
  
Gail climbed up and over the edge of her crib…and made her way to the open doorway where her father always came through. "Adar…" she sang to herself in order to be brave. In her arms she clutched a stuffed toy, a little unicorn with pink hoofs and long braided hair. She wore a beige dress decorated with purple ribbons and blue lace, and her hair now was a bit longer, though still quite curly and her eyes as bright as ever.   
  
She squeezed through the huge door as it was adjar slightly, and padded down the large hallway. Echoing down the hall that was illuminated by torches.were the agonized screams of her mother, and the crashing of the storm against the windows…or was that the creature trying to get in…she shivered at the huge size of her home. She had never been in this hall alone, its great high domed ceiling painted with a spectacular mural of the Valley. The carpet was weaved by hand and she curled the red fibers under her toes as she hugged the edge of the hallway slowly walking down and ducking out of site whenever she saw someone who was not her father.   
  
"Its okay, Perdie" she assured her unicorn in a tiny little voice, but as she looked up…it was not okay…the formless shadow creature was just in front of her on the other side of the huge stained glass windows. She could see it darkening each color as it moved and banged into the glass trying to shatter it. She closed her eyes fiercely and curled down into a little ball, wishing it away, holding onto the light and warmth that her little hands could generate. But when she opened her eyes…the creature had broken through the window. The sound of a thousand pieces of glass breaking shattered through the hallway and flung in every direction, one slicing her arm, causing a red streak of blood to spill forth. A large shadowy claw lay on the window sill and wind and rain poured inside.   
  
As its eyes came forward and it pulled itself upwards and almost through the window...every torch in the hallway went out….and the next thing she knew, time slid forward…and the world around her moved so quickly she felt like she was spinning out of control, and she cried out in terror. But that cry fell on the ears of no-one whilst the hands of time took control. She curled up once again, shivering and crying, clutching her little toy unicorn desperately.  
  
And then...everything changed. She still felt the darkness…she still felt the fear in her heart…but she was somewhere else…and the hall was smaller, small enough that she knew her father would not be able to stand up in it. He could not possibly be here…and her tears began to flow again. It was lit…but dimly so, and seemed to go every which way…endless halls…she finally gave up trying to find a way out and fell back against a wall in between two small round doors, sobbing. in misery and terror.  
  
And he woke…sweat trickling down his forehead, and he swung his hand up to wipe it away reassuring himself that he was indeed awake once again. In Brandy hall…it was difficult to tell what time of day it was as not all the rooms had windows. Frodo's was one that didn't, though he had begged for one. He had dreamed of something clawing at the walls, trying to get through…its huge claws scraping against the dirt and stone as they were made of cloth, and he felt it trying to pull him towards the wall. He had not been able to get off of his bed for the room was filling with water…pouring in from the cracks in the stone. He had been clutching the bars of his bed and it had almost broken through when he heard the sound of a child crying. The sound had broken through the crunching sounds of the claws of the mysterious creature.  
  
Shivering, he turned towards the door of his room, taking deep shuddering breaths. Something was out in the hall…one of his cousins playing tricks with him? Had he cried out when he woke up? Were they coming to see what was going on….he wasn't sure. Whatever the case, he lit the candle by his bed and pulled the covers back. Drawing on his robe he walked tentatively towards the door, smoothing back tousled curls.   
  
His throat was very dry as he approached the door handle and turned it, fingers trembling. He screwed up the last of his courage and wrenched open the door, peering cautiously outside, his candle lighting first the left end of the dim hallway then the right. That's when he saw her cowering behind a side-table, curled up into a little ball. A small bright light in the darkness of the shadowy hallway. His breath came in a sharp gasp as he approached her, and then knelt down. She was rocking back and forth, sobbing pitifully. He reached out…and touched her shoulder…and she nearly jumped out of her skin with a little shriek that died on her lips when she saw him.   
  
What he was about to say fell away when he saw who it was. He swallowed nervously at the delicate creature. Her eyes were streaked with tears and she whimpered pathetically in elvish. He saw the blood on her dress and the scratch on her arm…and he paled. "Its you…" he managed to whisper hoarsely. At the sound of his voice she leapt up and threw her arms around his neck, clutching, trembling with fear. Surprise flooded his features and he mustered his valor. "Can't…no one should see you here…" he lifted her up in his arms, small elleth that she was, and she clung to him tightly.  
  
She didn't speak, burying her head In his shoulder. It felt…warm somehow. She was warm, not like as though she had a fever…but like holding a hot water bottle. He took her back into his room and set her down on the bed, he did not have much in the way of furniture in the small room. "Lets look at your arm…Its all right…" Frodo assured the little elleth girl as she blinked at him in confusion. He still had a glass of half-full water from the night before, and he opened a drawer, and rummaged around in it while she watched him, silently. He drew out one of his older shirts and looked at it…"Well….." he pulled a little a the seams, and tore off one of the arms, then used a knife to cut out a strip of material. "I don't…know why you're here again…this doesn't -feel- like a dream…"  
  
He pulled up her sleeve, blinking a little at the severity of the wound…seemed to be some kind of claw mark… and dipped some water on the bandage. He happened to have a little box of vials of herbs and medicine that his mother had left behind…so after he washed the skin with water he used that to dress the wound carefully and then tie the strip of cloth around her arm snugly. "There…" he smiled at her.   
  
She was too scared right now…even in the comfort of Frodo's room…the darkness was not gone…and they were less protected here. She turned her gaze towards the wall and then looked back at the hobbit her eyes wide with fear. She threw her arms around him and cowered. Water was coming into the room once again, and the shadows were stretching forward. Frodo cried out when he felt it on his feet, and held her as he climbed up on the bed. The shadow was back…the candle light flickered and its claws scraped against the stone threatening to tear It at any moment.   
  
She managed to look up and then at her friend…and he to her…though young…she understood…they would have to fight it. To send the darkness back. They would have to combine their strength…what they had. Everything. He nodded in response to the unspoken direction and a determined look set in his intense blue eyes as he turned to face the creature, Gail clutching him. Wind was picking up in the room, swirling around them both.   
  
"Precious…" the words came in the darkness, and came with every drop of water as it poured into the room, and caused them both to be drenched as though in a strong summer rain. "We know you…Know you…know you…" And the chorus continued to whisper a jumble of ancient words from a thousand voices.  
  
They were less protected here than in Rivendell….and the one who watched knew that. The planetir was serving her well, she could see them, and the visions that brought them together. She was chipping away at the cords, all she had to do was be patient, add a little here…and a little there…. And…she had all the time in the world. She would not rest until she got her vengeance, until she destroyed the Ringbearer, and made him pay a thousand fold for what he had done. Soon…Gail could be used…and she would contact Sauron.  
  
Frodo held tightly to Gailethil and they both closed their eyes, using each other's strength to banish the shadows back to where they belong. It seemed almost hopeless….but then…something small appeared to glow around Gail's neck. The necklace that her father gave her...the Mithril fire-spring. Its glow surged around them…  
  
Bright light was nothing new to the forces of evil, but this particular one held all the glow of a brilliant shield that wrapped around Frodo and Gailethil, and even when the water filled the room entirely and the shadow clawed through the wall in a terrifying rumble…nothing could break through….nothing could penetrate the barrier.   
  
They never knew how long they stayed that way, but when Frodo woke in the morning…he felt something in his arms. The tiny elleth was curled up beside him, not really sleeping, but resting. Her sweet face basking in the sunlight. She was still there…no….she was fading away…  
  
"Don't go!" Frodo cried out…"Don't leave me…."  
  
But there is only so long that you can remain in dreams and though she held out her arms, and their fingers barely touched for but a moment…a blinding white light caused him to shade his eyes…and she was gone…and he began to cry. Lying there in his little room in Brandy Hall, delirious from fever, the stone seemed to close in on him…and his Aunt helplessly tried to administer the mornings medication.   
  
When she left, she picked up a torn shirt and took It with her, leaving him in quiet slumber. She wondered why he had ripped up his own shirt. She would have to have a serious talk with Bilbo, Frodo was not getting any easier to deal with…and where had that toy come from? She glanced suspiciously at the unicorn doll as she walked out.  
  
And back In Rivendell….the storm was gone at last and finally Gail was found. She had been missing for six hours, and everyone had been out of their minds with worry…When asked where she had been, or how she had got hurt…she only said one word…  
  
"Here." a helpless sound from a very confused child...who only knew that she had lost her favorite doll.  
  
They never found out what she did with the toy….or where she had been….and who had dressed her wound…  
  
And from then on Frodo often slept with the toy in his bed, it seemed to be a comfort, though he did not remember where it came from. It helped him.  
  
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Author's note   
1.) Okay, have you guessed it yet? Who the Villain is? No? Okay…good. You're not meant to. Hah!  
2.) The person who wants Vengeance is adding a little to visions that have already happened, but weren't remembered very well. There did not used to be quite so many between the Ringbearer and his appointed Guardian. The Villain is playing around with time. Take a course on Quantum Physics and maybe someday you'll get it…maybe.  
3.) Gail in the far future is appointed by Elrond to accompany Frodo to Valinor. She is the Ringbearer's elleth nurse/guardian far into the future. But someone…is not very happy with that and seeks to change the past.J You'll find out more as the story unfolds and the years fall forward. This is just a bit of explanation as to their connection and a steady progression towards their first 'real' meeting. Okay…I admit It, I'm keeping you all in suspense. I'm evil incarnate…etc. I'm sorry! And I'm just having too much fun writing this stuff.  
4.) Oh yea…I made all this up, nope, there never was a Gail in the books.J 


	9. Love is never easy Spring 2632

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14 Years Later…. Gailethil is Sixteen. // Frodo is Sixteen.  
Rive dell -- Year is 2632 // Shire --- Year is 2984  
*She vanished for 3 days and then came back when she was sixteen years old. She was helping Frodo get better. I did not go into that scene because I wanted a transition chapter and didn't want to write 400 years of Gail. There will be one more transition chaper between Bilbo/Elrond and then it will go into the War of the Ring and their first meeting after the 'dreams.* After Weathertop. NOTE : Gail walks through the shadows (The realm where the Ring Wraiths are) to get to Frodo. She is a force of good, where the Wraiths are evil. That's about all the explanation you're going to get right now. Oh yeah, and it's a way to ignore time. Remember how Galadriel sees the past/present/future Through her mirror. I kinda picture this realm as being the 'land in between' where time has no meaning. Kind of a 'real dream realm' if that makes any sense…What it doesn't?…oh well…just read the story… Glorfindel and Legolas are speaking after Gail spent three days with Frodo. The Summary of those three days will be at the end of the chapter when both Frodo and Gail remember what happened. Its going to be very vague in some parts, you're going to have to use your imagination.  
An…yes, it's a Frodo angst romance, completely alternate universe…so read on and see what happens next. Oh an…I don't own anything from Tolkien…and you can't have my Frodo poster, anyway.  
J Surprise!  
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In the Hall of Fire…in Rivendell. Legolas and Glorfindel are speaking.  
  
Glorfindel and Legolas sat in the hall of fire at the House of Elrond while Lindir was singing. Legolas looked over at his friend and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Do you need to talk?" he asked the younger elf gently.   
  
Glorfindel nodded, the look in his eyes was edged with darkness. "I think…yes." he followed the Prince to the gardens of Rivendell where they walked in silence for some time before he began to speak. "She was gone for three days…and I know something happened. She won't talk about it and she won't even look at me now." he said at last. "Legolas, what am I going to do? "  
  
Legolas hooked his fingers into his belt and frowned, "Gailethil is special…you know that. You are going to have to be strong. Put your feelings aside and guard them deep. She is young yet…very young. Perhaps things will change." as calm as ever, the Prince of Mirkwood was well known for his sense and strength.  
  
Glorfindel shook his head, "Its too late." he sighed, "I spoke with…" he sat down on a bench, leaning back. "I spoke with Arwen. She told me that Gail had gone through a great trial during the days she vanished through the shadows. She is resting still. I want to see her…but the Heryn will not allow it. Yet…" he paused, "I entered the room where she rests anyway, and she opened her eyes." he shivered, "I've never seen such pain, Legolas…never…then when she saw it was me there she looked away and began to cry. She is so frail…I tried to get closer, but she asked me to leave. I wouldn't and tried to get her to talk about it. She continued to cry, her hands were so weak in mine. " his breath caught in his throat and tears shimmered in his own eyes. "Then…she told me."  
  
"What did she say?" Legolas folded his arms as he listened, sitting next to his friend, the moonlight shone in his light golden hair but shadows lingered in his gaze.  
  
"When I asked her why she was crying…she told me that …" he ran his fingers through his hair, slightly curlier than the other elfs, but they looked so similar…they could be brothers. "She told me that it was because *he* needed her, that she was crying because she could not stay with *him*. She told me that she had been looking after him those days…he had been very ill and there had been no one who understood what needed to be done and what he wanted. When I asked her what she had done to make him well…she started to shake uncontrollably and cried in my arms. She would only say that he had wanted her to stay because of it…and that she had been unable to. Why will Arwen and Elrond not tell us who she visits? They won't tell -me- what she is." he let his hand rise and fall helplessly. "What…am I going to do? What if one day she stays there…and never returns….and we can't bring her back?"  
  
"Glorfindel." Legolas spread both his hands as though emphasizing his point. "Gailethil is the last Elvin Seer born to the Lands of Middle Earth. Wherever her vision takes her, she will return from it. Celeborn talks of weeks that pass when Galadriel is suffering the same. No matter what happens, or where she goes when she travels the shadows, she will come back. I know that you love her. I've known it for a long time now."  
  
He attempts a rueful smile, "Its that obvious?" he takes a long breath.   
  
"No, not to the untrained eye." he explains seriously, "Glorfindel. You cannot make another person love you, no matter how hard you try. Either it happens, or it does not. Naridril said that she is destined for something, that her path was laid for her even before his parents met. Remember how he told us that every day that Torialas has lived in Arda…was another day towards the birth of the Last? It was foreseen. You may love her now, but you may never be able to do anything about it. You must prepare yourself. I am sorry." he runs his hand over his face and looks away into the stars.  
  
Glorfindel's shoulders sagged, "I know." he leaned forward, his arms resting across his knees. "But I cannot help what I feel. She let me hold her though, Legolas. She did, for a little while. And then the Heryn came in with food and was not very pleased that I had gone in against her instructions. I had to leave then, and that's when we met in the Hall. Whatever happens…I'll always stand by her, as silent as I must be."  
  
Legolas nodded solemnly, "I understand, my friend. And we do not know yet what might be. Keep that in your heart and we shall see what comes to pass."  
  
"Yes…" Glorfindel replied heavily, "We shall see."  
  
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Gailethil huddled in the large bed, she could hear the songs from the Hall of Fire and wondered who was there. Arwen had made her eat something though she wasn't hungry. She was remembering what had happened with the dark-haired boy, Frodo Baggins. She had spent three days with him…three terrible wonderful days that she would not have given up for all the Mithril in Middle Earth. Even if she had not really been there…but how was that possible when his Uncle had seen as a little girl?  
  
She had worked through the days and nights, helping them to understand what he needed. They had not been able to see her, but Frodo had…the vision alone had been what kept him conscious. It had been terrifying and wonderful at the same time….especially when he begged her not to leave him and she had slipped under the covers…holding him in her arms while the fever raged.  
  
Then when it was all over…when finally his temperature had subsided and the worst was passed they began to talk for the very first time. Yes, for many years they had seen and played with each other in dreams, but never before had they really been able to talk. She would always get called back, or either he or she would fall asleep and wake up alone. This time….something kept her there longer than it ever had before.  
  
And she remembered telling him that she knew what he wanted to do…that she knew he wanted to kiss her. They were so young, but their connection was strong, breaking through barriers that might have been instrumental in keeping them apart. They were two children who had no idea what they were doing or what was happening to them.  
  
But the voices had come again in a rush, they had found her…and she was forced to leave.  
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Frodo still had one thing left from Gail's last visit. She had left behind her shawl, and even if no one ever believed him, even if he couldn't get his cousins in Brandy Hall to understand or believe that he wasn't hallucinating it was enough to keep him sane…and fighting for his health and life. It was what he needed to get past the death of his parents and to move forward.   
  
There was only one person who believed him, and that was Bilbo. He promised Frodo that he would teach him about the elves when he brought him to live at Bag-End. He promised him that he would one day bring him to Rivendell. One day…He lay in his bed at Brandy hall wishing for the day that he'd be able to go live with his Uncle in Bag-End and then maybe go adventuring with him. He'd go to Rivendell…and she would be there…the sixteen year old hobbit had many things on his mind, and for the first time in his life it was something other than his own pain or books. He was thinking about what it would be like to be loved.  
  
Frodo could still feel the softness of her lips on his when he had kissed her in response to her offer to do so. He remembered their taste…honey and apples…and it filled him with wonder. And every time he remembered that he closed his eyes in pain…recalling the light that dragged her away from him. Would she ever come again? How long would he have to wait this time….for he knew that there was no one in the Shire that he would ever find that would ever have done what Gail did for him. She had put aside her own comfort for his sake.  
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Frodo did not know that he had to wait 24 years….  
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	10. The White King Oct 2968

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I guess I'm up to writing a bit more before the scene between Bilbo and Elrond. Maybe one more between Frodo and Gail. I'm starting to get a better feel for the story as I go on. Okay, in this story, Gail comes face to face with a nightmare.  
OCTOBER 2968 Rivedell & The Shire (A couple of weeks after Frodo's birth)  
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RIVENDELL  
  
It was one of many games that the three friends played in the Valley whenever they would return with her brother for a while. A Race. An innocent act that had never before led to any trouble. Legolas, Glorfindel and Guiltily were racing to the Ford at the borders of Rivendell.   
  
There was a bright sun in the azure skies over Rivendell. She was riding in the valley, clad in white pants and a soft blue shirt. Her hair was braided behind her and she rode hard. It was a race, and she was going to win it…this time. She urged her white stallion forward, stroking its neck fondly. "Come on Boy…We can do it this time." Behind her Glorfindel was hot on her trail, riding almost neck and neck with Legolas. The two blonde elves were riding stallions of a similar breed and color. They had always won before, but she had been training.   
  
As they galloped forward, they began to approach the Ford … on the edge of Rivendell's borders, she could hear someone shouting in her ears. That was their destination, the ford was where they always stopped the race. It was Legolas she could see when she glanced over his shoulder, but she did not. "Gail slow down…you won't be able to stop him!" the prince was shouting. She did not hear though as the wind was rushing by. She turned then to her other side, where Glorfindel was coming up on the right. She hadn't heard the words and continued to spur the horse on….faster and faster.   
  
But something was wrong…As bright and sunny as the day had been before…a sudden shadow crept over the sky…so quickly…like a great billowing black hand…enveloping everything…clouds rippled above, churning in cold darkness as they moved forward.  
  
The Ford was suddenly rushing forward and into her vision. She felt something…call her…then…but it was not Legolas or Glorfindel. The call was like a whisper in her head…then she saw him…standing there in brilliant ethereal light, just across on the other side of the ford. The tall white king…his robes flowed in an almost formless way but he was unmistakable. He lifted his skeletal hand…and out of the corner of her eye she saw Glorfindel's horse rear, and buck backwards, throwing him off of it and into a tree. There was crunching sound when he hit and she cried out trying desperately to reign in her own steed. But she couldn't, she turned over to her left, where Legolas was riding beside her, trying to reach out his hand. "Grab ahold!" he cried out.   
  
She tried…she really did…but she could not drag her gaze away from the figure on the other side of the ford. Legolas was almost able to touch her hand, but she pulled it away when she looked back to the White King. He was also reaching towards her…  
  
"Do not cross the ford." she could hear Elrond's voice echoing in her ears from the past. "You may go anywhere in the valley…but never cross the ford."  
  
Always before, nothing had happened. They had stopped and then she looked beyond the ford and asked them a million questions about the world beyond it, and they made their way back to Rivendell. But today…today was different. It was October the 20th…2968.  
  
The one voice became clear in her mind. "Cross to us…" Both of the King's hands spread, and Legolas struggled to keep control over his own steed, but it was beginning to buck…and refuse to move forward. . "Cross the ford…" the words sounded like the crunching noise that is made when one walks through cracked dry and dead leaves.   
  
Legolas was unsure exactly what was going on, she had never had a problem stopping before…but once he saw what happened to Glorfindel he knew that something was very wrong. He would not give up…something was happening. He could not see the King, but he knew that something had got control over her horse…and there was only one thing that he could do. He vaulted off his own steed, and ran forward, bracing one foot against a rock. Though pain laced through his eyes at the idea of having to do what he must….he notched an arrow and aimed at a place where the beast might recover from…The sharp sound echoed through the air as the arrow sliced into the flesh of the beast.   
  
The White King screamed….a sound that echoed across the valley and beyond as he forced the stallion forward…despite its pain. Twas a shill cry…but as though it were made from a thousand voices instead of just one. The stallion was almost to the river, a few more seconds and it would be carrying her across.   
  
Legolas had no time to waste, he notched a second arrow, and aimed for the horse's head. The words of Elrond passed through his head…"Never let her leave the valley, no matter what you have to do to stop her." …and he let fly. Almost in slow motion the second arrow sped by, narrowly missing hitting Gail as it cut into the brain of the beast…causing a quick and easy death. The horse tumbled, and spilled her from the saddle, crashing into the ground.   
  
Legolas ran forward, his bow in his hands and he pushed the beast off of Gailethil. "Gail…are you alright?" he lifted her, brushing her hair away from her face. Her eyes were closed and she was shivering...as though cold, and her face was drenched in sweat.   
  
She opened her eyes, and they shimmered with tears, seeing only what was across the ford. "Let me go…" she clutched at the Prince of Mirkwood. "It hurts…."   
  
The White King knew he was defeated…this time…and did nothing more.  
  
"Glorfindel!" she suddenly cried, her eyes seeing what was around her once again. "Where is he? I saw him fall…" then she saw him limping in their direction, leading the other two horses. His expression was grave…and there were tears in his clothing where he had hit stone when falling down.   
  
"I'm alright." he assured her gently, rushing over to bend down and assist Legolas. "What happened?" he looked at the Prince.  
  
"She was about to cross the ford." The expression on his friend' face was very grave. "The horse did not fall to my first arrow, something was controlling it." He released his hold on Gailethil so that Glorfindel could take care of her. "I had to kill the beast or it would have taken her across ."  
  
"The White King called to me…" she whispered softly, burying her head into Glorfindel's shoulder. And then…she smiles a strange and wistful smile…and it is more than obvious that she is talking about someone else. "I can hear him crying…finally…after all this time…he's here…" Her face was a strange combination of joy and sorrow.  
  
"We have to tell Hir Elrond." Glorfindel responded, lifting up the she-elf in his arms. His breath caught in his throat when he heard Gail speak, for he knew that she meant the one from all those years ago. He met Legolas' gaze and set his chin in determination. Gail was looking far away and not quite entirely with them yet…and it was raining besides. "What fell voice was that which commanded our steeds?"  
  
"I do not know, but you are correct. That was … far too close…We must get her back, and quickly. " Legolas turned to Gail as she began to rub her eyes and then blink around as though one who had just awoken, lifting her head away from Glorfindel's shoulder and staring at something on her fingers.  
  
"Glorfindel." Gailethil looked up at him with eyes that he would forever be lost in, eyes that could have commanded him to do just about anything. "You're hurt…" she had touched the side of his shirt and blood had stained her fingers. He shivered at her touch, but perhaps it was just the rain. She glanced back at her horse and her eyes opened wide, "Oh! No…" she tried to struggle to get up, but was restrained. "What happened?" she whimpered…for she truly couldn't remember. "Legolas…?" and she began to cry again…her head was hurting so much that she couldn't think straight…and she was very dizzy.  
  
Glorfindel shook his head, "Its not bad." he assured her, allowing her to cry as she would. Legolas came over and laid a hand on the she-elf's shoulder. "I'll be fine.."  
  
"It had to be done." he whispered helplessly, "I'm sorry."  
  
"What happened…What happened…" she repeated over and over again, whimpering and shivering…but not from the cool rain that was fell down. "I'm so cold…" she laid her head back on Glorfindel's shoulder. "Everything is spinning…"  
  
Indeed her hands were like icicles when he touched them. "Here." Legolas took her from Glorfindel so that the other could mount his steed. Then she was carefully handed up to the younger elf, and he held her tightly in his arms. Legolas lept up onto his own horse. "I feel…something still there…we must be away."  
  
And they rode hard back through the valley.  
  
The White King watched from the edge of the Ford. His cold lifeless eyes followed them until they were out of site. Patience. Things were changing already. At least they knew one thing...they were that much closer to the Precious, that much closer to the Ring. He could feel it...as though it was just beyond his reach...but it would soon make its presence known in the world, and with the aid that they were getting from the voice in the Planetir things could proceed far differently. From what she had told them, if they did not do exactly as she directed...Sauron would never regain the One Ring. He smiled...well...it wasn't exactly a smile, it was more like a sneer. They had to get her out of Rivendell. But...how?   
  
He needed a spy. He needed to convince someone in Rivendell to lure her outside. His gaze narrowed when he saw the look that Glorfindel was giving the Last and a perfectly awful smile spread over his skeletal face. How interesting.  
  
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THE SHIRE  
  
It had been quite a long night, but the little baby boy was now resting…though he had been crying and fretful all night. He was cradled gently in Primul'as arms as Bilbo came in to see him, brought by Drogo. A storm was raging outside and water could be heard pelting against the windows.  
  
Bilbo gazed down at his nephew curiously. He seemed to need a great deal of attention…this one, but he would soon grow strong.  
  
Drogo grinned in that boyish way that he had. "Cute little fellow, isn't he…He's been a bit ill lately, but he's getting better." The dark haired hobbit laughed a little at Bilbo's expression. "Oh come now, Bilbo. Tis only a babe. He won't bite. If you want to hold him, I'm sure Primmy will let you."  
  
Bilbo fingered the ring in his pocket absently, as though he was thinking of something else, and wasn't entirely sure what it was. He'd heard something though…perhaps it had only been the wind because out side…rain was falling in heavy torrents. He shook his head, "I'm not that good with children.." He only know that what he'd heard just now was not the cry of a baby. "Did you hear that?" Bilbo asked, looking out the window and fancying that he saw a black shape there for only a moment.  
  
"Hear what?" Drogo shook his head, "Nothing there…Just the wind." he smacked Bilbo on the back affectionately, "I'm glad you're here, though. Little fellows going to be quite the charmer when he grows up. Look at that cleft on his chin, just like his grandfather. I think we're going to call him Frodo."  
  
"Frodo…" Bilbo smiled, though the smile did not quite reach his eyes as something was nagging at the back of his mind. "I like the sound of that." Something...did not sit right with him though, and he nervously kept glancing to the window and felt the most peculiar desire to put on the ring in his pocket.  
  
  
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	11. Dancing in Dreams June 2815

1.) When I said Twenty-Four Years a couple of chapters ago…I meant that he would not know what is going on for 24 years.   
2.) This was written with "Frodo Baggins of Bag End". He wrote the part of "Frodo" as we were building the scene.  
3.) This takes place when Frodo is 19, and when Gailethil is almost 200.  
4.) Gailethil ages about 50 years for every 5 Frodo does.  
5.) NOTE : They had more encounters closer to their young ages when Gailethil was younger, but as she aged, time is longer. Okay class, that's enough Quantum Physics for the day.   
6.) This chapter takes place really BEFORE the last chapter.J Are we all clear now? Yes, I'm   
Jumping around a bit. I'm sorry, I keep getting ideas.  
  
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Dance Lessons  
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They were having a celebration in the middle of summer, everything was wonderful as it always was. Glorfindel had asked Gailethil to dance a long set, and she had responded favorably. The song was light…and a little foreign, one of the tunes that was not entirely elvish. Elrond was watching from his seat, frowning slightly at the site of Gailethil with Glorfindel. He glanced over to Legolas who was also watching. He then looked at Arwen who did not seem altogether pleased either but she shook her head to the lord of Rivendell as though advising him not to interfere. Gailethil had been happy the last few weeks. Things had been going very well…and she had not had any nightmares or visions. She had spent them with her friends Legolas and Glorfindel as they were trying to teach her how to use a bow. He was holding her…a little closely than she at first thought he should…and was looking at her strangely. Perhaps it was the music, perhaps the air. He was rather handsome, really…but he was not…Frodo. She found herself smiling when she thought of the one of her dreams. The smile…was mistaken for an invitation, from her partner, who often caught her eyes when she thought of her dreams and liked to believe it was for him.  
  
"Is it not a lovely evening, Gailethil?"  
  
Glorfindel took it as such, as he nodded up toward the stars. "Just look. . .there is Earendil. . .though I do not think at this distance the Silmaril he bears can be called the fairest of all things tonight. . . ."  
  
She stares in surprise, her cheeks pinking slightly. "Oh..." she smiles shyly, and what a beautiful smile it is...but as he coaxes her to look at the stars she feels something clutch at her heart. From somewhere...someone is watching, calling her...calling her into the shadow realm. "Ah...!" she cries out in pain as she staggers...her hands bracing themselves on her partners shoulders as the world begins to spin around her and she falls...her eyes open wide with terror at the realm that opens up before her...and then they see no more of current times as they close as she collapses into the Elf's arms. Elrond rises from his chair in a flash...moving over to the couple, passing through the surprised elves on the floor, to help Glorfindel as he tried to steady Gailethil.   
  
"Gailethil!" Glorfindel cried out her name anxiously.  
  
And the world around her spinned quicker and quicker. She almost felt as though she was going to faint….and soon it began to slow down…she could hear voices…she could not feel anyone holding her….these voices were not elvish…and certain one far harsher than it needed to be.  
  
"And *one*-two-three, *one*-two-three! Frodo Baggins, just what do you call that step? I don't know what you expect that is, but it's no dancing-step I've taught you!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Mistress Goldworthy. It was an accident - "  
  
Frodo swallowed nervously, standing before the dancing-mistress, who rested her hands on her hips. The two other couples, his cousins, stood in perfect little pairs, like storybook-dolls, close by; not far from them, little five-year old Merry played contentedly nearby with an assortment of brightly coloured blocks.  
  
"Honestly! I thought perhaps you just needed a bit of extra help, but this is appalling. . . ."  
  
Frodo winced, looking very small as he shuddered. "I'm sorry, Mistress. . .it's only I slipped because I felt dizzy. . .please, mayn't I go lie down for a while?"  
  
Surely had Primula been there, he'd have already been lying down: the boy looked paler than even his usually light complexion, with a faint flush at his high cheekbones. . .enough that Primula, even his Aunt would have tucked him into bed and fussed over him. But they were not there, and so he stood quietly before the teacher, blue eyes wide with anxiety as he begged her leave.  
  
She steadied herself by the windowsill, trying to will the dizzy feeling away as she gasped as though for breath. The room finally began to come into focus and she blinked as she sees Frodo. He had not seen her yet, and seemed quite miserable. She glanced around and looked very surprised when the child playing with blocks claps his hands, "Pretty!" he points at the window excitedly.   
  
Mistress Goldworthy did not look impressed. A matronly spinster it was her job to keep the young children in Buckland Hall under control, and she had very little patience for those who seemed to want to skip lessons or draw attention to themselves. "Don't be absurd." she shook her head firmly. "Come children, we shall have a break for 30 minutes, but you. You will stay here and learn that step. Your Aunty trusted in me to teach you and that I will, no matter what is done. Look after your cousin while we are in the kitchen. When you have learned it, you may leave, and not before. Hop to it now." she slapped her hands together and the others obediently followed her out of the room, leaving Frodo and Merry alone, or so they thought..  
  
Frodo sank to the floor, sitting in a small heap, looking positively forlorn. He seemed feverish, and the thought of mastering the step is sufficiently daunting to bring tears to his eyes. As yet, he does not seem to notice what so amuses his smaller cousin.  
  
"Frodo...Pretty!" Merry laughs excitedly as Gailethil made her way towards the poor hobbit. She bent down...and touched his chin, lifting it up so that he sees her...Just then light illuminates the room as the elleth came into full view...in all her finery...looking quite the angel for she was wearing a dress picked properly for a celebration, blue silk with jewels that sparkled in the tiara on her head, and about her throat. The elleth is still young, but there is a certain timeless beauty in her appearance.  
  
He tilted his head up as someone touched his chin. . .cool, comfortable hands. . .and at once his blue eyes widened in stunned delight.  
  
"Gailethil?" he breathed, looking frightened. . .as if she might disappear were he to even blink. At closer range, the truth was even more evident and more concerning: he felt too warm, hot to the touch, and seems listless, . . .  
  
She kneels down and draws him into her arms in an embrace. "Frodo…it is me." she smiled...and she smelt wonderful…like a combination of apples and honey.   
  
Merry tried to crawl out of his playpen, but is quite prevented. The young child was entranced by the elf.   
  
Gailethil put her hand to Frodo's forehead. "Why are you not in bed?…" she wondered, as she glanced about in confusion.  
  
He shivered, trembling as if burning up.  
  
"They won't let me. . .Mistress Goldworthy says I must master my dancing-steps first. . .but I'm cold. . .and I want to lie down. . . ."  
  
She looked around and noticed a tray with water and five glasses for the students. She smiled at the child still watched them with excitement. "Let me give you some water…and what dance is it…maybe I know of it? If…I helped you…in time, she would let you go back to your room…wouldn't she?"  
  
"I think so - "  
  
Shivering still, Frodo nodded eagerly, and he too offered a slight smile to little Merry. "It's just a little waltz; it's very pretty, just that I'm tired and everything. . .my back and limbs ache. . . ."  
  
Gailethil was quick to pour him some water and bring it over.   
  
Merry watches, "Want to Play too!" he cries a bit desperately.   
  
She carefully let Frodo take a drink, on the tray she found a napkin and had poured water on it to make it cool. "I know that one!" her eyes brightened, "I was just dancing the waltz with Glorfindel." she spoke the name as one might speak of a brother, or a very good friend. "I can teach you. Its easy…you just…have to have the right partner." She dabbed the napkin against his forehead and cheeks. "Do you have the strength…though?"  
  
He closed his eyes with relief, sipping eager gulps from the glass while she patted his flushed face with the napkin. At her querie though, he shook his head.  
  
"I'm not sure. . .but if I don't manage it, Mistress Goldworthy will. . .I don't want to think what she'll do; she'll be furious. . . ."  
  
She smiled, "I believe in you, Frodo. Lets try..." she rose when he was done with the drink and helped him to his feet. Her warmth...and her spirit...and strength, was there for him. Her look, as she gazed down at him was as though the stars themselves were shining their light. "You can do it. Well go slow...Its works in sets of three steps..." She explained as she began to hum the tune a little with her silky voice.   
  
Merry heard the sound and starts to beat a rhythm with his blocks quite excitedly.   
  
The tune was slow...less harsh than the one the dance mistress was forcing. She wa quite taller than him already, but that was not stopping her, nor does she seem to pay any attention to it.  
  
He seemed a little awkward at first. . .but her touch appeared to infuse him with fresh energy, and he managed to master the little step, moving with deft gracefulness. Actually, he is quite an excellent dancer with work, only a bit fatigued. . .the fever pressed him a little off balance, but otherwise he really is doing well. . . .  
  
Gailethil took him about slowly..one-two-three, one-two-three. It was like a dream…only in perfect harmony. Soon the pair seemed to be lost in their own little world.  
  
And this was the site that greeted the class as they enter the room, back from their break.   
  
Frodo moving about the room, looking up at something…and as though he is dancing…with a partner…his arms holding her…lifted up just slightly because she is taller than he, yet there is no one there that they can see.   
  
Several giggles errupted from the girls, but yet….he's learned the steps…and was demonstrating that he knows them. It was an awfully odd site…for he did not notice them right away, until Mistress Goldworthy cleared her throat.  
  
At once Frodo stopped, nearly falling in the abruptness of his pause.   
  
"Mistress Goldworthy! I-I-I'm sorry. . .forgive me. . . ."  
  
Anxiously he dropped a quick bow, keeping his head down.  
  
Gailethil stood behind him, her hands on his shoulders keeping him steady. The Dance Mistress walked up to the young Baggins, and peered at him. "Well." she grunts, "You seem to know more than you let on." she turned. "You -do- know the steps. Right." she snaps her fingers to the other children. "You can go. But I expect you here -on time- tomorrow. You were late today…again." she glances over to very happy child who was busy spelling things out with his blocks.  
  
Not that the dancing-mistress would notice, but Frodo smiled. . .it seems Merry was somewhere in the process of spelling a name: G-A-I. . . .  
  
With a prompt bow and a grateful thank-you, Frodo hurried out, quickly cutting into the hall by his room. . .and nearly collapsed, his face terribly flushed and damp with sweat.  
  
Gailethil half-carried him to his bed, worry in her eyes as she lay him down. "Frodo..." she whispered gently...her eyes filled with worry. "Frodo what's wrong?" she brushed the hair from his forehead as he gazed at her.  
  
He clung to her as he blinked back tears: obviously he considered himself too old to cry in front of a lady, but his resolve was weakening. As she eased him down, he sighed with relief, seeming exceedingly glad to be back in his room.  
  
"I. . .I don't know. . .I started feeling too tired yesterday, and then I woke up during the night feeling all cold and hot. . . . I wanted Auntie, but she's away at least until tomorrow. . .and everyone else thinks I make it up, to get attention. . . ."  
  
A slight cough escaped him, tightening the frail chest.  
  
And so the elleth cared for him throughout the night until he was well again for there was no one to do so that day. In the morning, the music from the dance mistress could be heard and once again when he woke she was gone….and his Aunt was there to take care of him. Maybe it had been a dream…but his ears perked up as he heard his Aunt Emerald speaking.  
  
"The funniest thing." he heard his Aunt talking to his doctor. "Young Merry spelt the oddest word yesterday, sure as certain it ain't anything we'd call a word. *Gailethil*. What an odd name. He kept saying it meant pretty. My word, Doctor, but if you have any idea what to do. Please…"  
  
Back in Rivendell, Gailethil was lying down in her bed, Glorfindel and Arwen were watching over her when she awoke. A smile was soft on her lips as she turned to them. "He'll be alright now."  
  
Glorfindel sighed, Gailethil was in his heart and soul as she ever would be…but she was tied to someone else. There must be some way to break that tie, he thought to himself, surprised a little at the desperation in his heart. Arwen then sharply glanced at him…as though she might have seen the look in his eyes. Glorfindel rose and leaned over to touch Gailethil's cheek. "I'll be back later. You rest now, Arwen will look after you." he longed to get away from Arwen's gaze and was soon walking hurriedly down the hall.   
  
"Glorfindel!" Legolas' voice could be heard. "There's something that Hir Elrond wants us both to check into."  
  
Distraction…he definitely needed that. 


	12. A Gift of the Heart June 2815

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Belated Disclaimer…I don't own anything written by Tolkien…and am certainly not going to try and sell any of this.  
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A GIFT FROM THE HEART  
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Gailethil is walking in Rivendell with Glorfindel and talking to him about Frodo and why she gave him her necklace when she saw him the night of the ball.  
  
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The walked silently in the darkness, he held her arm gently, filled with a tenderness that she knew she did not deserve. The stars shone above casting a brilliant glow down upon the valley gardens. "Gail…" Glorfindel began. "There's something I have to tell you…" he stopped them from moving on, and turned around to face her finally, looking down at her with a glimmer in his eyes and a determined set to his chin. "I have to tell you before I go with Legolas. We'll be gone for many years, but we will return." he raisd his hand to touch her throat….softly. "But first…where is your necklace?" he knew the answer to that question, but he had to hear it from her lips.  
  
Long ago, before the five children of Lomendil Firespring were born, he had crafted a series of pendants. One for each of his future offspring. The pendants were no bigger than a slender man's thumb, and were made from mithril, diamond and pearl. Surrounding a diamond heart was a fire carved in mother of pearl, and surrounding that…a mithril ring of water. He took them to Galadriel for blessing, and she placed a spell on them. If someone who truly loved them were to look into the diamond heart they would see an image of the person who gave it to them.   
  
Gailethil could not meet Glorfindel's eyes as he stood very close to her right now. "I.." she whispered very softly. "I gave it away."  
  
"To him…" he sighed. The older elf knew that he was the boy she dreamed about. The boy she visited when she was called away to wherever her duty was by supernatural forces he did not quite understand.   
  
"Yes." she nodded softly, and then saw the look in his eyes…but misconstrued it for worry. "Glorfindel…I had to….he did not want to get better…because it meant I would be gone again."  
  
"I know…Please…tell me about it?" He sat down with her in the cool grass, lacing his arm around her shoulder protectively.  
  
"Its very difficult…to explain." she leant her head against his shoulder, gazing up at the stars. "I took him to his room and helped him to bed. He had a terrible fever that was building as every moment went by, and I could not understand why nothing that I did…helped him. Then I mentioned…I said that the cool water would bring down his temperature and help him to sleep. And he looked at me…with such anxiety…he said that…he was afraid to sleep…he was afraid to sleep because that meant I would leave him. He said *Because. . .most of the time when I'm ill and you're here, and I fall asleep, you're gone when I wake. . .not always, but usually. . . .* He rested his head upon my shoulder and I saw how his eyes were over-bright with high fever as he watched me. I then tried to wipe away at the building sweat …so strange the sicknesses of the firstborn…I told him that I thought about him a lot over the years…and then It began to dawn on me that I had to ask…it had been so long since I saw him last. We began talking about how he could come to Rivendell…and he said that his uncle Bilbo had already been here. That was when I asked how old he was…and what year he was in.…and he said he was 19...and it was almost 172 years from now. He's in the future…My future…I know that now. He began to lose hope…and I gave him the necklace…to build his strength. To show him that even if I had to leave him there would always be a part of me with him. I think…I think that helped. I spoke at length with Uncle Elrond…and he said that that there was a Darkness surrounding us…a link between us that he did not yet understand. He had no answers, but It had something to do with the Rings of Power, but he did not yet know what. He told me…that 172 years was not that long, and I could wait. I can't explain it…but since I was very little...my heart and spirit have been tied to this boy." Gailethil looked up at Glorfindel, "Elrond said for me to draw everything that I saw when I passed through to the future so that we might have a record of what to expect and so that we will be ready when the time comes." She stopped speaking as she noticed that tears were shimmering in his eyes. "Glorfindel…?"  
  
"Gailethil." he blinked them away, not wanting to rise or leave this particular position. He only had her for 172 years…and then she would be lost to him forever. "You did the right thing." he breathed a sigh, his own heart heavy in his chest. He would endure…it was all that he could really do.   
  
Or so he thought…for things were about to unfold that would lead to his downfall….  
  
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	13. Promises Apr 2845

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Chapter 13 -- Promises --   
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It had been a very long time since they had last been in Rivendell. Legolas and Glorfindel had been in Mirkwood, and recently received a letter from Rivendell asking them to bring certain documents from Mirkwood and Lothlorien to Elrond.  
  
They were riding hard as they usually did for Elves did not tire easily. Legolas had been very worried about his friend recently. He had become…rather morose and self-absorbed. Clearly nothing like the carefree Glorfindel he had know in the past. When they stopped at Lothlorien…he'd have a talk with him.  
  
Glorfindel had tried to spend that time forgetting about Gailethil. But nothing seemed to work. He could not get her out of his mind. Glorfindel had other things going on in his head. Outside of Mirkwood…he had an encounter that deep within him he wished had never happened. But there was nothing that he could do about it now…and the more time went on…the more he thought about it…the more he wanted it to happen, despite the desperate plea in his heart that was trying to tell him to remain true and keep his honor. He looked back…again…on the encounter.  
  
------Glorfindel's Corruption------  
  
He had been restless all that day, and he walked…trying hard to avoid other elves as the thought about the only one that he truly wished to see…Gailethil. Soon…he would be back in Rivendell bearing the papers that Elrond had asked for. He walked far that day…farther than he really thought he had. Certainly out of Mirkwood itself.  
  
Then there was a sound from behind and he whipped around, gazing into a shadowy cave.. A figure…that seemed to form from that shadow…emerged in darkness, a black hooded cloak pulled over him. He wore…full plate armor, and carried a long steel sword at his side. He hissed slightly, but did not make as if he was going to attack. Glorfindel drew his bow, for he could sense evil…and prepared to let fly the arrow.  
  
"Stay thy hand…elf….for talk is all I wish…I am not here to fight you. I am here to help you." the caressing words flowed through the air…like a thousand needle pricks to the back of his neck.   
  
Glorfindel shuddered but did not release the arrow. He kept it cocked however and backed away slightly. "Who are you…and what do you want from me?"  
  
The black hooded creature lurched forward as it walked, sniffing a bit in the air. The walk was unreal…like the hobbling of an old old man. His elongated fingers flicked out and gestured towards the warrior. "I know what it is you want. Talk with me…and I can give her to you." Still Glorfindel could not see the creatures face beneath the hood, but he did not take action, twas not the elvin way to attack without being attacked.  
  
"Speak your words than leave this place. There is nothing here for you." Glorfindel declared in a quiet yet deadly voice. His heart was failing a little, he sensed something about this creature that put every fiber of his being on alert.   
  
"Is that anyway to speak to a friend?" The creature hissed a hollow laugh that echoed in its hood. "I know you want her. And I can give her to you…make her love you and not him. Otherwise…you will spend the rest of your days…in torment." he spent time on each and every word, emphasizing the last. "She will never love you." the words rang through Glorfindel's mind and he shuddered at their impact. "She loves him. But I…I can change all that. I can break their connection. Break it…into little pieces."  
  
He could not believe himself…he was lowering his bow and seriously listening to the creature, he could not understand it but he could not bring himself to do otherwise. "How?"  
  
"When you arrive at a place called Weathertop on the way back to Rivendell, you will find a bracelet. Simply give it to her…and she will be yours." the creature weaved a spell of deception as it was speaking, breaking through the hardened defenses of the lone elf and working their way into his heart.  
  
"That's all?" Glorfindel blinked a little. "What does this do for you?"  
  
"Everything." the creature turned and began to walk away, cackling. "Resist it…and you will never gain her love. Take it…and all that you want will be yours. This I promise you."  
  
And then it vanished back into the shadows.   
  
-----------------------------------------------------------end Glorfindel's corruption----  
  
Legolas and Glorfindel finally arrived in Lorien. On their way to visit Galadriel to get the rest of the papers, Legolas put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "You have been very quiet. Is anything the matter?"  
  
Everything was the matter, his heart ached as he looked at his friend, longing to tell him…but he feared to do so. He was struggling with something that had already taken root and was beginning to fester mercilessly in his soul. He shook his head, looking away, but the Prince knew that he was holding back.  
  
Galadriel gave Legolas the second half of the documents they needed and while they both paid their respects she suddenly turned and looked at Glorfindel, her eyes wide and forbidding. Glofindel shuddered, knowing she was looking deep within him. He turned…and walked away, unable to do anything else.  
  
"Legolas." Glorfindel looked to the Prince of Mirkwood. "Guide your friend carefully…for something stalks his heart with an invisible hand. Have care…have care on your journey back to Rivendell. Do not stop."  
  
"Yes, Lady Galadriel." Legolas bowed, "I will take care. I promise."  
  
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++  
  
Frodo was as happy as he could be, Bag end was indeed the wonderful place that Uncle Bilbo had promised. He was thriving there, away from Brandy Hall. His relatives were not exactly happy about it, but he didn't care anymore. He was. There was only one thing that could make things perfect, but he daren't talk to anyone about it. Gailethil. He sighed a little. He knew…she was more than just a dream…and still did not know what to make of it all. He kept close to his heart the small pendant that she had given him and looked at it almost every day. Still…he had not seen her in more than two years. Then again…he had not been sick, and he was beginning to wonder if that was the only time he'd ever get to see her…and if there would ever be a time that he could really sit and talk to her.  
  
Someone was ringing the bells …he sighed and put down his book. Not in any hurry he walked over to the door and opened it. A peddler…haunched over…and wearing a black cloak. He was an ancient looking hobbit and behind him was a large waggon with many things.in it. "Good day to you, Mr. Baggins. I was told you might have an interest in some of my wares." he spoke in a hissing voice, and Frodo did not immediately take to him, glancing about nervously for a moment.  
  
"Well…I…I'm not really interested in buying anything today." he always hated to be rude, and did his best to maintain a polite demeanor.  
  
"Ah…but I'm sure that what I have will interest you. Special wares from as far away as Gondor…and Rivendell…" the last word was spoken in a hushed tone. "Spices from the Elvin Lands…Very expensive…" His words were quite hypnotic as he spoke them each very clearly. "They go well with vegetables, especially things like Mushroom Pie…and Potatoes. Aye, many a man has called be back for more, mark my words, laddie. They won't disappoint, I promise you."  
  
"Spices?" Frodo's curiosity got the better of him, and if it was to do with Rivendell he was interested. She lived there. "Show me what you have."  
  
The peddler lay out on a the porch a variety of elvish items Spices, Silk, jewelry. There was no end to the trinkets that he pulled out and claimed to be of elvish nature. Frodo had to smile at some of the things, but there were a few books…and the spices looked interesting. He'd have Sam use them with potatoes laer and see what they turned out like. He picked out a few things, feeling in a good mood as he always felt when he had someone to talk about Rivendell with.   
  
The spices and books purchased, the happy peddler packed up his wares and was on his way. The peddler made his way to the great east rode…and when the sun began to set on the land…he changed form…became larger…and darker…a hissing sound that seemed like laughter caused the pony to start a little and a glint of metal revealed the true nature of the peddler.  
  
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	14. The Voice of Evil Apr 2845

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Chapter 14 -- The Voice of Evil  
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Note : Last chapter I mentioned Sam when Frodo was 22, which is impossible. Sorry about that. I forgot. Instead of Sam, he meant The Gaffer, for twas the Gaffer that was looking after Bag-End until Sam was old enough to take over. Sometimes I forget details. Sorry this chapter is short…  
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The White King listened to the voice in the Planetir. It was not Sauron…and yet…Sauron knew that. He laid his clawed hand down over the black globe.  
  
"Everything proceeds forward.." he carefully said in his mind.  
  
The female voice was hollow…like death…much like when Sauron contacted him.   
  
"Does the Halfling have our gift?"  
  
"Yes…Mistress." The ghastly countenance of the creature whose form was only shadow in light, and light In shadow had no expression other than hollow obedience.   
  
"Does the Elleth have our gift?"  
  
"No…Mistress. The Elf has yet to give it to her." The White-King's laugh was unforgiving, "But he will…and when he does…he will be ours forever."  
  
There was a sound that came from low within her throat. Irritation, almost a growl. "It has to be perfect timing. Perfect. For if she visits him, she will save him. So says the record. The Elf -must- give her the bracelet. Go to Weathertop, create something that will lose his companion. Draw him to you, then take control. I don't care how you do it, and I don't care if he comes on our side. He is nothing. He is only a tool. Our way of unlocking the door into Rivendell. Our way of bringing -her- out. I want her. Your master has been waiting a long time. And you know what will happen if you fail. "  
  
"I see not why we do not simply kill him, and take the Ring." The Witch-King was irritated by the constant games.  
  
"It is -her- we must have. She is the connection to the One Ring. The Key. As long as she is on their side…the Ring will never be ours. They planned it that way when she was taken from us. She was to help those pure of heart to withstand the call of the Ring. She was not able to help the creature Smeagol, but she was able to help the Hobbits. For this moment…Frodo Baggins must be unable to go to her. He must not be able to help her. Then…with her in our hands…he will surely bring the ring to us when he learns what it is." The female voice was crisp and cool, like a winters breeze. "We watch and wait for the perfect time, we know the times she went to him and the times he went to her. This is the moment. This is our chance. We cannot fail. YOU cannot fail. Do you understand? Or are you going to question the desires of your master further?"  
  
"Comply with what she says." The voice of Sauron was unmistakable in its malevolence.  
  
And of course…there was no way to resist. There never had been a way to resist since he had been seduced by the power of the Ring. "Yes…"  
  
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Frodo awoke that day a smile on his lips for he had had a good dream that time, though he knew it had only been a dream. She was there, with him…and she was telling him that she chose him over all else. He hoped that it would come true one day. Bilbo was soon going to be coming home, and he had gone to Rivendell to talk with Lord Elrond, and to meet her. He would be back with news, and Frodo was on pins and needles. He wished that he could have gone with his uncle, but he was still not of age, only 22 and stuck home at Bag end. He just wanted to know that she still lived. He did what he always did first thing In the morning, he looked at the pendant that she had left him with and smiled at it. "I miss you…" he fingered the diamond shaped heart in the center and her face appeared as it always did. And that was the smile that made him look forward to getting up in the morning. He lay there in bed, gazing at her image until he heard the voice of the Gaffer Gamgee as he was puttering about in the kitchen.   
  
"Frodo, lad." the old hobbit's voice rang down the hall. "The Bees is Buzzin' and the birds a'chirpin'. The day won't wait fer ya much longer, aye. Up with ye."  
  
And he crawled out of bed reluctantly putting the locket away. Twas just another ordinary day in the shire. He wished Bilbo would come home.   
  
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	15. The Star Bracelet Apr 2845

Author's note : There are several scenes in this chapter. Think of it like a movie going through the important bits with different characters.  
  
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Chapter One -- The Star Bracelet --  
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Legolas silently cursed, the fog had come suddenly, like great billowing fingers caressing the land, and he had shouted a warning, but Glorfindel could not hear him. The wind was also howling, making it difficult to both see and hear. But the Prince of Mirkwood had many years of experience in this kind of weather and in many forms of magic. He was certain this was unnatural, something that had to do with Galadriel's warning. It had come when they were still many days from Rivendell, near the ruined watchtower. He'd have to find his way there, for then perhaps he could see what was going on.   
  
Glorfindel. He sighed, something just was not right. He was not the elf that he used to be. There was a darkness in him that Legolas had never seen before. Not depression or madness…just a darkness. He was not himself. He did not make jokes, or talk anymore. In fact, he had become very silent, not sullen, nor rude, but simply silent. As though he wanted to be alone.  
  
Legolas was no longer riding his horse as he could track better from the ground. He led the mare while he did so, carefully calculating distances and landmarks. He knew -where- he was and looked for an opening in the fog, anything.   
  
Then it came. He saw the Watchtower looming nearby, a great shadow in a sea of shadows. He started to move faster, and forward, leaping over stones and branches. If Glorfindel had made it through the fog, that would be where he'd have headed.  
  
Legolas felt something aberrant in the air, like a vast menace that was silently building. He moved faster and faster until he finally got to the base of the tower, and left his horse. He climbed quickly, one hand over the other and then he finally got to it. The fog was very thick here, and the shadows…seemed to have a will of their own. He shivered, it was cold…extremely cold. The icy wind nipped at his skin like it never had before. Usually…cold did not bother him, he was an elf.   
  
He gazed about, peering through the rolling fog, looking for any signs. "Glorfindel?" he saw a shape coalescing in the fog…but it did not seem to have any real form he recognized. "Glorfindel are you here?" he raised his voice. He saw the shape bending down and pickng something out from underneath a rock that glittered silver and he moved forward.   
  
But despite his experience…and his almost legendary valor…he failed to notice the white hand that sailed through the fog towards him, attached to the most loathsome of creatures. He turned suddenly, dagger in hand, but it was too late. The Witch King was upon him. His eyes opened wide in horror at the formless terror that was in the shape of a man of pure white light…but was the heart of evil itself. He felt the back hand of the blade smack against the side of his skull and there was a sickening crack.  
  
And so he fell, staggering forward and bracing himself against a rock. He struggled to keep conscious, but everything reeled and he slid to the ground as the fog rolled over his inert form.  
  
Glorfindel held the bracelet in his hand and looked towards the White King, he had failed to notice Legolas at all, or what had happened. "This is it?" it glittered pure silver, forged in the same fires from which the rings were made. There was no purity in the charm bracelet, but it had everything that would appeal to the eye. Delicate beauty, exquisite craftsmanship and three little opal star charms that glinted brightly.   
  
"That is it." The Witch King smiled.  
"And all I have to do is give it to her?" Glorfindel held the bracelet up to the moonlight that was beginning to sift through the fog. The little stars bore elvish markings which faded when he brought it back down.  
  
"That's all."  
  
Glorfindel then turned to make his way down to Weathertop. No one saw his eyes, but the Witch-King knew they had succeeded in taking control. They flashed with a sudden white light, and then returned to a much deadlier version of the elf that used to be. He saw Legolas' horse, but totally ignored it, jumping on the back of his own steed. He had to ride hard. He put the bracelet back into his pocket and was swiftly gone as the fog rolled away after him.  
  
+++++  
  
Twas morning when the Prince awoke, holding the back of his head in pain. The fog was gone, but there was no sign of his companion. He staggered to his feet and gazed around blearily trying to remember what had happened. Then he began to remember. Legolas frowned and stumbled down the ruins of the watchtower to his horse. A gourd of water was there and he splashed the back of his head, where a nasty lump was giving him a splitting headache. He steadied his horse and dragged himself up on the steed. The valiant Prince kicked the beast into action and began to ride despite any pain that he might be suffering. There were more important things than pain.  
  
+++++  
  
Gailethil smiled at Glorfindel when he arrived in Rivendell. He had come…sometime at night, and directly to see her. This had not displeased her really. She was painting in the house of her father. She greeted him with a fond smile that one would give a brother or a favorite relation. "Glorfindel." she set down the paintbrush and went to give him a warm hug. Which he returned in kind, abet…holding her a little longer than necessary.  
  
"Gailethil, I've missed you. How are your paintings coming along? You have been practicing quite a bit I see."  
  
"Thank-you. Its good to see you too. Where is Legolas? He usually is with you."  
  
"Oh." Glorfindel shrugged nonchalantly, "There was a fog on the way here, and we lost each other, he should be along any day now, we were not that far apart. He has the papers Elrond wanted." He sat down and simply gazed at her for a moment. "You know there are no elleth in either Mirkwood nor Lotholorien that match you in either spirit nor beauty." His words spoken like a caress made her only laugh.  
  
"Don't be absurd. I do say, Glorfindel, if you are not careful, you're going to start spouting poetry. If you are practicing on me for another…I must tell you truly. Try something else other than poetry." she laughs gaily.   
  
He half-smiles, it was what he expected to hear from her after all. He reaches into his pocket. "Actually…I have a present for you." Holding up the star bracelet he smiled when he saw her reaction. "Twas something I purchased in Mirkwood. What do you think?"  
  
"Oh…oh Glorfindel. Its lovely." her eyes sparkled. "Did you really get it for me?"  
  
"Yes, I missed your birthday last year…" he smiled. "Here…try it on."  
  
And he snapped the bracelet around her right wrist, the three black stars contrasted sharply against her light skin and she held it up to the sunlight. It glittered and sparkled. She smiled warmly at him. "Its beautiful." and then leant over to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank-you. Its wonderful to have you back again. Come…tell me all about your journey."  
And as she walked with him in the garden, neither noticed the bracelet as it tightened ever so slightly around her wrist…clinging to the delicate flesh.  
  
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"Attacked at Weathertop?" Elrond eyed Legolas, taking care to attend to his wound carefully. "You lost Glorfindel in a fog?"  
  
"I heard he had come back here alright. I'm glad to hear that, at least. I'll go see him in a moment. I do have the papers you wished for." Legolas grunted slightly as the herbs were applied to his wound.  
  
"I like this not." Elrond mused, "I like this not indeed." he looked to Arwen. "Send Glorfindel to me, I wish to question him."  
  
And Arwen had a guard go to find the Elf in question, but return with chilling words. "He has already left Rivendell, My Lord. He only stayed one day. He did not say where he was going."  
  
Elrond looked towards Arwen and they both seemed to share the same thought at once. "Why would he leave so suddenly? Where would he go? This is his home…"  
  
But there were no answers to those questions…and only one elf could give them what they sought, and he was nowhere to be found.  
  
+++++++  
  
"I don't like it…please…" Frodo begged her as she tried to tend to him. He was beginning to sweat fiercely as he stared at the black stars that hung from the silver chain around her wrist in fear. "Take it off…"  
  
"Frodo…" she dabbed the cool cloth against his forehead, but was beginning to see the terror in his eyes. Could he really be that jealous of Glorfindel? Could her really be that insecure. After all..it was only a birthday present from a friend.  
  
"Please…" he begged her, his large blue eyes gazing up at her in torment.  
  
Then she sighed, and shook her head. "Alright." and she slid the bracelet into her pocket. He gave a sigh of relief, but was still shaking with fear. She did her best to calm him through the night, but when his Aunt came in the morning to care for him…she was unable to stay. Something drew her back…something forced her away from him, even though he was not entirely well again.  
  
++++++++ 


	16. Nothing to Offer Her Shire 2990

Author's note : Frodo Baggins of Bag end played the part of Frodo. We did this in 'present tense.' so I'm sorry if it seems a little odd. It just seemed like it was too much trouble to go through and change everything. Angeline is the Aunt that took care of Frodo in Bucklberry after Bilbo found out that he was being overlooked. This particular chapter takes place when Frodo is 23 and newly arrived at Bag End. The story that Angeline tells Frodo is made up by me. Anyway, sorry for the present tense nature of it. I hope you like.  
  
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Chapter 16 Nothing to Offer Her  
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The morning was quiet, it was about two weeks after hed last seen her. He didnt really know what was real and what was not anymore because he felt that something was wrong. The bracelet that she had been wearing.he couldnt explain it but he hated it, and he had been fretfull and uncommunicative with her and hated himself for it. He longed to tell her he was sorry, but she hadn't returned. When he finally was well enough to eat, and Angeline arrived, Gailethil had vanished, without explanation. Hed just simply woken up one day and she was gone. Frodo had been bed-ridden since then, he was both getting better...and not improving. Somedays it almost seemed like he was going to get out of bed, but others he just did not have the will to get up. It was this that Bilbo came home to, not from Rivendell, but from one of his adventures.   
He was always off on trips. Angeline had been taking care of Frodo.  
  
Angeline came in with a bowl of mushroom soup and bread, a smile upon her lips. "Sweetie, I just got a letter from your Uncle, he's on his way home." she said softly, setting the tray down and then putting her hand to his forehead.  
  
Today is not one of his better days. . .he feels hot to her touch, running a fever again and in a fretful mood, fussy and miserable, to judge from his expression. There are shadows beneath his eyes, as if he has slept poorly, and he looks very pale. The news, however, sparks a curious light in the bright blue eyes, and he looks up at her eagerly.  
  
"He's coming? Uncle Bilbo's coming back? Will he come and see me?"  
  
This much excited chatter provokes a bout of coughing, and he curls unhappily onto his side, struggling to breathe.  
  
"Yes of course he is, sugar, he should be here actually sometime today or tomorrow morning judging by the date on the letter. He sent it from Bree. Would you like me to read it to you?" she chatters as though nothing is wrong, though her little fingers rub his back soothingly and she stirs some medication into his apple juice while he is not looking. Sometimes Frodo is easier to deal with when he does not know what it is he's getting. "Here, sweetie, take some of this, it'll calm your throat." there are crushed pieces of ice in the juice.  
  
"Please. . .I'd love that. . . ." Tweenager that he is, Frodo has become increasingly difficult on some points, but juice with crushed ice never fails to soothe him, and he snuggles into his aunt's arm as she helps him up, eagerly sipping the juice, though he makes a tiny face. "There's medicine in this, isn't there?" he complains fretfully after a moment. Sulking a bit, he looks up at her, beginning to break into a sweat again.  
  
She smiles gently, "Never could fool you when it comes to your juice now, can we, Sweetie?" she touches his cheek. "You wouldn't take it, and of course I had to find a way." she explains, but she presses him to drink again, and dabs a cloth to his forehead and cheeks, wiping at the sweat. "Sip just another...and I'll put it aside and read you the letter, alright? What has you so fretful, my little one? Tis more than just being ill. I can see it in your eyes, you know that if you want to talk you can always talk to me." she contines to apply the cool cloth. "I won't judge you, you're my baby. You don't have to keep it inside."  
  
He drinks obediently, still making a slight face, though he finishes the juice. "I don't like that medicine's all," he whimpers. Her touch and the cool cloth seem to quiet him a little. . .he merely curls against her, fighting another near-bout of coughing.  
  
At the reassurance and question, however, he is quiet for a moment. . .then bursts into tears, beginning to sob piteously.  
  
"I. . .I. . ." He gulps. "Remember. . .wh-when I told you. . .a. . .about. . .Gailethil?"  
  
She nods gently, a little smile on her lips but the smile is only for his sake. She lets him cry, holding him tightly in her arms and dabbing occasionally at his cheeks to wipe away the tears. Bilbo's letter sits on the table near the bed, yet waiting. "I remember…" but does she really understand? For Frodo's sake she always tried her best. She remembered being at Primula's house and the strange things that went on there from time to time, so she was not all that surprised when Frodo had told her that first time. "What about her, Sweetie? What is it?"  
  
Snuggling into her arms, he nods.  
  
"Sh-she was here. . .when I was. . .still throwing up a lot. . .but then after I. . .started eating again. . .a bit. . .she left. . .but she always t-talks with m-me first, and. . .she's gone, and I h-haven't seen her since. . . . And sh-she was all excited about her. . .her n-new b-bracelet. . .she probably d-doesn't w-want to c-come back. . .I w-wouldn't blame h-her. . . ."  
  
She strokes the side of his head after applying the cool cloth once again, "Well, most girls like jewelry, Frodo. Why wouldn't she want to come back? What happened, sugar?" she has another glass of apple juice ready for him, this time...no medication in it. "Drink some of this, please...no...no medication. What you've had will work upon you." and her eyes are kind and soft as she looks down at him tenderly. She does believe he saw something, for she remembered one day in his mothers burrow. Long ago. Perhaps she ought to tell him that story after the letter, it might make him feel better.  
  
Still teary, he drinks, sipping slowly yet still choking now and then. "Sh-She. . .he's her b-best friend, and. . .I th-think he likes her. . .but she gave *me* her p-pendant, but. . . ." He trembles, shaking as if with terrible chills, though he sweats like one on a summer day. "Auntie, what d-do I h-have to offer? I'm ill all the time. . .and Secondborn. . .not like them. . . ."  
  
"No..." she smiles softly draws another blanket up around him, and continues to wipe at the sweat, tenderly and gently, the cool water glistening on his pale skin. "You are unique, Sweetie. You are no ordinary hobbit, you know. Well...if she gave you something than that means she likes you doesn't it? Why don't we find something...something that you can give to her? All that we females really want, sweetie, is love. And if you can love, that it all that you really need to give. But why would she not come back? Did you say something? I am sure she knew you were sick...and not yourself."  
  
He shakes his head, still shivering, huddling into the blankets. "I d-don't *think* I s-said. . .anything. . . . She knew. . .she takes c-care of me. . .usually she just c-comes when I'm s-sick. . . . I do l-love her. . .v-very much. . . ."  
  
Another short bout of coughing, and the tweenager chokes. . .he is clearly very upset today, easily startled. . . .  
"Well..." Angeline continues to administer the gentle treatment, "Sweetie I am sure that she will be back, she always is isn't she? I would reckon that she knew you were jealous, and did not yet know how to deal with it. Its nothing to be ashamed of, and only natural. " To a hobbit, thats clearly a rather sound explanation, considering she has no idea what else he would be so upset about. "Here now...I've an idea. You know how your mama used to take care of me when I was a little one? I have something...something that she gave me before she got married. I think." she dabs the cool cloth at his tears. "I think maybe you could give it to her, since it was once your mama's. Would that help?"  
  
Frodo allows her to console him with this. . .and the offer piques his interest, causing him to smile a little, looking curiously into her eyes. The chill seems to ease a little as she sponges his face, and he snuggles into her arms.  
  
"Perhaps so. . .what was it? Surely you. . .sh-should keep. . .it i-if Mamma. . .g-gave it to you. . . ."  
  
  
"I think your Mama would want you to have it, Sweetie. Shall I tell you its tale? I was very sick like you, you see…quite unnatural, but I think it had something to do with an epidemic that was going around at the time. I was a most susceptible young lass. " she continues to apply the water, soothing him with her fingers and her voice. "I can remember it clearly, your Mama had a most unusual voice, like a whisper on the wind, it was so quiet…and yet it filled a room when she spoke. And here." she pulls from a pocket in her gown a little pin, shaped like a primrose with a tiny pearl blinking in the center. What is eye-catching…is that it seems to be made from Mithril…but is probably just silver. "She told me that one day long ago her great grandmother gave it to her and said that it is passed on through the generations when a person you care about needs it the most. It brings hope. She said it was magical, and certainly it seemed to be. Shall I tell you?"  
  
He nods eagerly, eyes wide. . .and his dry lips brighten into a tiny smile as he looks at the pin.  
  
"Please do. . .only. . .I'd like some more to drink while you tell it, please. . .so thirsty. . .and my throat. . . ."  
  
Curling up a bit more, he looks up at her, waiting for the story.  
  
"Very well then." she lets him have something more to drink and then curls Frodo up in her arms. It almost seems like his mama's voice once again. "This tale is a tale of magic in the shire, she said.. A long time ago…a very long time ago… there was a Knight named Aetharial. He was brave noble, handsome and very wealthy. He came from far away lands, a lord in his own right with a long history of great battles and bravery. But it was finally time for him to go home to his lands…he was coming home…passing through the Shire on the East Road. He was tired, and his heart was heavy. Throughout so many of his battles he had never once won the heart of a lady, nor had he found one that he would desire above all else. He felt sure…sure that he would die a lonely old man in his far away keep. " she takes a deep breath, and strokes Frodo's cheek tenderly, letting him have another sip as she works the words into her mind in order to continue. Angeline was always very good at telling tales.  
  
Her little charge continues to sip, listening with rapt attention. . .and for the first time in days, he seems quieter, less fussy and restless. . .almost as if it were Primula comforting him, cuddling him in her arms.  
  
Angeline continues the tale, and her efforts to comfort little Frodo. "It was way past nightfall as he made his way through Waymeet. A curious figure on his old steed and in his dented armor, scratched by many a wound and fell beast. His hair was long, hung down below his shoulders and his face was that of an old man though he was not old by any means, just tired. Weary of the life of the traveling life of battles and death. He was not welcome in the shire, for it was during a time when we did not trust the big folk at all, so he did not stop in any of the towns. It so happened that he became very tired and his horse needed a rest. So between Waymeet and Great Smials he set up a little camp in a clearing by the side of the road, sure that he was safe in the Shire. For what could possibly happen here? Peaceful folk, the little ones. No savage beasts in the land, nor terrible magic, nor fell sorcerers. He could rest, and be off again in the morning."  
  
Frodo listens with increasing attention. . .though he still coughs, shivering a little despite her comforting arms.  
  
  
She fingered the little pin, and the pearl gleamed brightly, you could almost…see yourself in it. "And so he did. But lest you be thinking there is no magic in the shire, this tale will tell you true. Frodo, he went to sleep…and that was when one of his old wounds began to hurt him again…and bleed. So there he was, practically helpless…yet…he was not alone. Suffering a little through great pain he forced his eyes to open…and that was when he saw her. Twas not an elf, no. Twas nothing like an elf. In the shire, we have many things, and this is one of our best kept secrets, so mind you don't go spreading it around unless to someone you are sure will not share the tale." she brings another quilt about him tucking him in.  
  
His eyes widen, and at once he seems to brighten.  
  
"I promise! Please. . .please tell me. . .Mamma would have. . . . What was she?"  
  
"She was exquisite, the most beautiful creature that he had ever seen in all the many many years of his travels. Her skin was alabaster, and her eyes were the brightest blue that you could ever imagine. As clear as the azure skies and as bright and warm as a roaring fire. Her hair was like spun silk, waving down to her knees and black as a raven's wing. Her lips were full and soft like the petals of a red red rose, and gossomer wings that sparkled like rainbows fluttered from behind her. She was…no more than half a foot tall and clothed in a little white dress that sparkled in the starlight. She was perched upon a leaf that was caressed by dew. She was the most enchanting female that he had ever laid eyes on, and he could not take his from her.  
  
"How does this be?" she wondered as she gazed at the knight. "That the oldest and the bravest rests in my mound?"   
  
"I am old." he nodded, "And if I die now…twould be a death I would welcome, for I would have seen the brightest light that this world has to offer." and he meant her, and she knew it, for Fairies…Fairies always knew what you were thinking. Twas their gift, and their curse..and why they remained out of site.  
  
"Brave Knight. I can give you one wish since you have found my mound, what would you have?"  
  
"You see Frodo." Angeline explained. "If you find their fairy mounds they will grant you one wish, and then you will be unable to tell others where they live."  
  
Frodo listens, gasping with delight as he listens, his countenance lighting up. He nods for more juice, taking it with a little more interest now, still clinging to Angeline.  
  
Angeline was quick to respond and lets him take another sip, smiling warmly.   
  
"I would wish…" he gazed upon her, and twas his dearest dream that he was thinking of. "To spend the end of my days with you. For there cannot be anything that I would rather have. My home, my lands, everything…mean nothing to me without love. I spent all my long years searching for it…and never found it until now."  
  
She knew he spoke the truth, but was loathe to give him what he desired. She had not choice…he had wished it…and he would not be living long. Fairies were kind souls at heart, and they did not like to see the creatures of the world suffer. They often tried what they could in small helpful ways to take care of the other races. You know how you leave home sometimes, and think perhaps that you left the fire going, but when you return it is put out? That is their work. Or when you are missing a favorite trinket, and look everywhere for it, and suddenly it turns up in the oddest of places? Fairies. Whenever something good happens that you cannot explain, that is probably something they have done. Or when you are feeling lonely, and in need of comfort and laughter, suddenly you feel happy for no reason at all. Fairies. "I will go with you, Brave Knight, for you have done your service to this world. But as a human shall I be." and she began to grow tall and beautiful. Her healing skill stopped the bleeding of his wound enough so that he was able to reach home with her on his arms. A fortnight later, they were married.  
  
Frodo nods, smiling.  
  
"Gailethil's like that," he whispers weakly, coughing again.  
  
She rubs his back gently, the fingers working softly. "He only lived another two years…Brave Sir Aetharial. But on the eve of his death…she gave birth to a child. A half human…half fairy. Before he died though, he put in her hands this small pin…for his child to wear when she was grown to remind her from whence she came for the pearl was from the shores of the sea where his keep resides. If you look closely, you can almost see it in the pearl. He gave it to her because she loved him, and he said.  
  
"This pin has been passed down from ages before, my father gave it to me when I set out on my quest. He said that it brought hope when there was none, and was a reminder of what is. A reminder that the one who holds it is very special to the one who gave it. I love you." and so he died.  
  
The fairy was devastated for quite some time…and she came back to the shire with her child, whom she could never raise as a fairy for the child had mixed blood. She kept her until she was about five, and then was sure that she would grow…as a halfling. With a heavy heart she knew she had to let her go, and she placed her one day outside a burrow that the child would surely be taken care of in. For the hobbits within had no children. The fairy diminished and went back to her mound, always watching from afar. But before she went she gave the pin to the child and told her the story of it. Most of the child's memory was gone, and yet was so beautiful and obviously of good birth, the hobbits from that burrow took her in and adopted her, unbeknownst to everyone else they raised her as their own. So she lived and passed the pin down from generation to generation. It came from one to the other then to your mother, and to me. And now…to you."  
  
If Frodo was pale before, he is whiter than the sheets now. . .and tears fill his eyes as he stares up at his aunt.  
  
"You mean. . . ."  
  
A terrible fit of coughing seizes him.  
  
"We do not know, Frodo. Tis a secret that only the Fairy's can tell you the truth of." She comforts him as best she can rocking him a little and having him drink a little more of the juice to ease the coughing.   
  
"Now Sweetie. I know." she curls him in her arms. "Let me just put this right here." she puts it on the table. "And when she comes you can tell her the story...and give it to her. I'm sure she will forgive whatever you did or said."   
  
"Well, My Lad." a voice comes from the hallway, "IF this don't beat all. No welcome for your uncle, in bed again, eh?" Bilbo stands in the doorway in his traveling outfit, looking quite weary, but it appears he must have been walking all night in order to get home.  
  
"Uncle Bilbo!"  
  
Frodo fairly attempts to spring from bed, to run to Bilbo. . .but he is too weak even to leave Angeline's arms, and he falls back against her, beginning to cough again, shivering through a sheen of icy sweat. Nonetheless, his expression is eager, and he puts out a small hand, anxious for his uncle's affection. "Bilbo - " the boy musters between coughs. "I'm sorry - I - I got sick again - "  
  
Bilbo looks quite tired, but he comes right over to the bed and takes the little one's hand. "Now My Lad, don't you fret about that. You'll be right as rain soon enough." he kisses the top of Frodo's head and looks at Angeline in concern. "How is he?" His rather dirty hands touch his nephew's cheeks and forehead with a little frown though he smiles right after to reassure Frodo.   
  
Angeline smiles as best she can. "I was hoping that you would make it back sooner than tomorrow. He really needs you just now. He's been very upset."  
  
Frodo begins to cry again, not in the waves of sobs, but in tears nonetheless. He seems quite feverish, and very emotional just now. . .and very fussy for his beloved uncle.  
  
Bilbo takes the time to ease off his coat with Angeline's help. "Thank-you for taking care of him." he smiles at his relation, one of the few he really liked. He washes his hands and then takes Frodo in his arms in a gentle hug. "Now then, lets see what we have here, eh? Angeline would you please make a pot of ginger tea, I quite fancy some right now and I'm sure my dear boy here would too. Thank-you."  
  
Angeline lets Bilbo comfort the little one and makes her way out to the kitchen.  
  
"I'll be right back." she assures Frodo.  
  
Frodo nods a little, clinging to Bilbo as the elder Baggins takes him into his arms.  
  
"I-I-I've missed you," he sobs. "And I got so sick. . .I threw up all the time for days and days, and then I still can't breathe, really, and. . .and. . .Gailethil was here, but she left. . . ."  
  
The words spill over each other as the tweenager chatters, finally going limp in Bilbo's embrace. "I wanted you to c-come home. . . ."  
  
"I know, my lad. I missed you too. She was here? Why did she leave? Usually she stays until you are better. I dont understand it." he pulls back Frodos hair and gently strokes his back.   
  
"Everything will be allright. I'm here now. Agneline will bring some nice tea. You like ginger tea, right Frodo?" he tucks the covers back around the boy, still holding him.  
  
"She h-had a new b-bracelet. . .from h-him. . . ."  
  
Sobbing, Frodo nods weakly at the question. "Yes, sir. . .I do. . . ."  
  
The little tween snuggles into Bilbo's arms, the combination of covers and loving uncle seeming to calm him a little. "I d-don't know why she left, except. . .if sh-she d-doesn't. . . ."  
  
"From him…Him who?…what do you mean if she doesn't My Lad? Of course she'll come back, she always does." He pats Frodo's back and cuddles him like a baby. His hand rubs against Frodo's back as he struggles to keep his strength. He's been walking a long time. Frodo however always seems to give him the strength he needs. Angeline brings in the pot of tea, but does not stay…because it seems that Frodo wants to be alone with his uncle right now.  
  
Gradually Frodo's tears begin to ease up. "Her friend there. . .I think m-maybe he. . .likes her. . . ."  
  
He begins to cough once more, his small features heated with fever.  
  
And Bilbo cared for him throughout the night, gradually bringing Frodo back to the land of the living as was always able to do trying desperately to ease his fears for twas quite obvious that the poor lad was beside himself with worry and that was what was keeping him from getting better. 


	17. Notes

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Some Notes  
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I know the last few chapters were a bit confusing time line wise so let me try to explain. In the chapter Frodo gets the spices and says Bilbo has gone to Rivendell, and he'll return. He's 22. When he comes -back- in the chapter where Frodo is ill, he will in subsequent chapters have news of Gailethil.  
  
Frodo gets the spices when Bilbo is away. Yes, that is what is making him ill. The hobbits aren't going to figure out what is going on until its too late.  
  
Gailethil is given the Bracelet -after- Frodo gets the spices. He gets the spices when he's about 22. This is the same year. 2990 Shiree, 2845 Rivendell.  
  
So…basically where we're at right now is that Gailethil was just given the Bracelet. It hasn't taken control yet. It won't for another 20 years.  
  
Frodo will be 43 when the spices are finally discovered as the cause of his sickness. And he will be 43 when the Bracelet takes complete control of Gailethil.   
  
Anyway, I hope these notes help clear things up. I know there are some spoilers in here, but I wanted to make sure that you all knew that I had a plan.J  
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	18. A Special Present Shire 2990

NOTES : Okay. In Chapter 16, the very last bit where Frodo and Gailethil are talking about the Bracelet, its actually the year 2990 in both Rivendell and the Shire. I should have put that there, but forgot.J Sorry. Frodo Baggins of Bag End is playing the part of Frodo, she is an author here and we're writing some parts of this story together. I hope that these notes help. I know time travel can be confusing. As to a note on how we're writing this, we're doing this almost like 'roleplaying'. This would be a roleplaying log except we're actively writing the story and talking about it while the responses are being written. This is why its in 'present' tense. Not all chapters will be in present tense because not all of them are roleplayed. More notes : Frodo used the spices, and that's why he got sick. He only uses them sparingly and being a hobbit does not associate food with being what is the cause of his illness. The methods that the evil doers chose was perfect. For the elf, a pretty bauble, For the hobbit, something in his food.   
  
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CHAPTER 18 --- A Special Present ---  
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Bilbo arranges the covers around Frodo and he smiles, coaxing some tea into him. "I know you've been fretting, my boy. But I hope you remember what I promised when I went off last time. I've something for you." He takes his time about the covers and the tea, clearly trying to gain Frodo's attention away from despair.   
  
"What is it?"  
  
Curious, Frodo looks up at him, though his small face remains pale, and he leans listlessly against Bilbo, as if feeling tired and sick, starting to cough once more.  
  
He rubs Frodo's back a little with a soft tender motion to ease the pain. "Tis a letter." he smiles and reaches into his pack that lays near the bed, digging out the sealed envelope. He lays it on his lap, and coaxes a bit more tea into Frodo before explaining anything more about it. "For you."  
  
Trembling, the boy looks from uncle. . .to letter. . .to uncle.  
  
"It's. . .it's about her, isn't it? They're wanting to prove she isn't real. . . ."  
  
"Why don't you open it and find out." Bilbo's voice is calm as he touches Frodo's cheek. "I'm sure everything will become clear, my lad." he sets the tea aside for the moment, smiling warmly.  
  
Frodo reaches tentatively for the letter, his small hands shaking as he begins to cough again, the shadows beneath his blue eyes deepening. He looks feverish and quite worn out. . .and anxious.  
  
Bilbo helps him to open the letter and unfolds it, breaking the seal for him. "There you are, my boy. Don't be afraid."  
  
-BEGIN LETTER--  
  
Dearest Frodo,  
  
How are you? I hope you are doing well, and Bag End is as wonderful a place to live as you thought it would be. Your Uncle Bilbo was just here and we had a very nice talk, he says that he is going to be back around again sometime soon. I showed him my pictures of you, and have enclosed one of them for you. He said you would like that. The weather is very nice in Rivendell, and yesterday I went for a walk in the garden. I wish that you could come here, but your uncle says that you don't have the strength to make the trip and that you are not of age to be going anywhere. He suggested that I write a letter and tell you how I feel. It is such a great relief to know that you are real and that you still think about me. All those times we were together…we still don't quite understand it. Uncle Elrond says that I cannot leave Rivendell, and he will not tell me why. Daddy says that I must abide by his wishes, though I wish I could come to you. Maybe we'll still see each other. I don't know.   
  
Today in the Hall of Fire Lindir pleased your uncle by singing one of his songs. It was a glorious feast and I sat at his side He thanked me for looking after you, but there really was nothing else I could have done. You are the light in my life as you are in his.  
  
Perhaps someday you will have the strength to make the trip, it is a long journey, and a wonder that your uncle made it through here alive at all. He says he had help from dwarves. I don't really know where to begin, I have so many questions and so many ways in which to tell you how I feel. It feels strange to know that you will actually get this letter, that you are there…so far away, yet so much closer than you have ever been. Your Uncle said it would take time for letters to pass between us, but if you write to me, I will write back. You live, and you thrive at Bag End, he said, it makes me so happy to hear. For now…we can look up at the stars…and be seeing the same sky.   
  
I love you.  
  
Gailethil.  
  
-End Letter-  
  
Frodo begins to read. . .and at once his eyes widen. He gasps, beginning to cough in the excitement. "Bilbo! She - it's - did you - see her?"  
  
He smiles, eyes twinkling. "Yes, Frodo. I saw her. Read on, now…but calm yourself…and have a little tea, eh?"  
  
He obeys, reading and allowing his uncle to give him small sips to drink, snuggling into the blankets, his eyes alight.  
  
"She. . .oh, Bilbo, THANK you! Please, you must tell me all about her. . . ."  
  
"There now, my boy. Did I not say everything was going to be alright." he touches Frodo's chin fondly and then smiles, "Well now, that will take quite some telling. Perhaps…over something to eat. I'm a bit famished myself. Its been a long journey and I could fancy a bit of pie, and some bread, and muffins and perhaps seedcakes, soup and I see your Aunt made some nice apple-cinnamon cobbler. She said the exact same thing, you know when her uncle took -me- to see her. Tell me all about him."  
  
Frodo beams excitedly, nodding.  
  
"I'm hungry, too. . .for cobbler, and soup too. . .and maybe muffins. . . . Do you think Auntie might have made mashed potatoes, or mashed pumpkin? I'd like that. . . ."  
  
Angeline appears at the door way, and moves towards the bed. She smiles when she sees Frodos excited expression. "Well now, there's a site for sore eyes. Tis been a while than we've seen that smile around here. What is it Bilbo?"  
  
"My lad here has found his stomach it seems, and I dare say I could use a bite. Be a dear and organize a little something for us? Lets see...I saw you had some pumpkin ready when I passed through the kitchen. So lets say : Mashed Pumpkin, blueberry muffins, that apple-cinnamon cobbler, some mushroom soup would be grand, and pie if you've some ready, fresh bread I could really do with and cheese. If you've got any biscuits or scones or toast...that would just hit the spot. Some juice for the lad and me old wine for me. Going to need a pick me up since the lad here will have me up all night askin' questions." Bilbo dips into the envelope and unfolds the picture for Frodo while he speaks to Angeline. Its a lovely image of Frodo smiling as he's lying in his bed. It seems quite old, as though it was done many many years ago.  
  
Frodo begins to cry. . .but these are tears of joy, and he beams as he raises fragile fingers to brush the page, beginning to sob.  
  
"Oh, Bilbo. . .it's. . .can we frame it? and hang it by my bed, please, so I can look at it every day?"  
  
"Oh dear me...what a beautiful portrait." Angeline peers over Bilbo at it. "Who drew it? Looks like someone who must know you very well, sweetie."  
  
:"Of course, Frodo my boy. Only the finest wood and as soon as it can be done so nothing damages it." Bilbo grins, and wipes at the overwhelmed young hobbits eyes tenderly.   
  
"Gailethil drew it. . .she made this when I was so sick with pneumonia, after Mamma and Papa died. . .remember that?"  
  
He beams, nodding eagerly. "Gailethil came then and took care of me, and she was so glad when Uncle Bilbo came, and when you came too and said you'd take care of me. . .but she's the one who made me hold on, and try to be brave. . . ."  
  
"Aye my lad, we both remember." Bilbo ruffled Frodo's hair. "Angeline, I don't understand it any more than you do. But I spoke with Gailethil's uncle. Hir Elrond half-elvin at great length and since her birth these things have been happening. They were relieved to know the truth of the matter finally. Seems she is…a special sort. Like Primula was, you remember, I think."  
  
"Yes, Bilbo." Angeline sat on the bed for a minute and took Frodo's hand squeezing it gently. "I'm very happy for you, my little one." she looks to Bilbo, "Will you be taking him there?"  
  
"Not yet." Bilbo shook his head. "He is too weak to withstand the journey. And far too young. There are dangers…more than his health, and I will not risk it. Please…bring the food, and we will discuss it later. And Angeline…."  
  
Angeline smiles, "Yes, Bilbo?"  
  
"Thank-you for believing him. It has meant so much to us over the years." He then turns to Frodo. "You know, my lad. She's an artist of some talent. Hir Elrond uses her vision for great things. I have seen some of her work. She's got the most delicate hands."  
  
"Yes, she does. . .beautiful hands, and so gentle. . . ."  
  
He beams. "I'm not surprised. . .she's so special. . .the first thing I ever noticed were her hands. She always comes and just puts her hand on my forehead. . .and then I feel better. . . Tell me more about her, Bilbo, please. . .I want to hear everything!" He looks up at both of them. "And if I try to eat and rest and take all my medicine, I'll get better, and then I can go and see her, maybe?"  
  
Angeline smiles gravely, and kisses Frodo on the top of his forehead, "I will let your Uncle decide that, sweetie, I'd best be going to fetch your supper before your uncle passes out from starvation himself." with that, she is gone swiftly to the kitchen.  
  
"That will depend Frodo, you know our traditions. You are far too young right now, and your health has been in question for some time. What Elrond and I discussed was that you could write to her, and they would send someone to Bree to collect the letters on a more regular basis. There are great dangers on the road, Frodo, and you are not ready for it. Trolls not the least of it. I was not telling you stories when I spoke of the But." he smiled kindly, "Depending on how your health goes, we'll see. You must continue to build your strength. She did ask me to make sure of that. When I first came to Rivendell Hir Elrond and I spoke at great length. He showed me the pictures of you that she had drawn over 300 years ago, and some current ones. Quite astounded me, I must say. And it has amazed them since everything started. I also met her father. He said to me that she had been destined for something since her birth and they all knew that this was happening. They helped her to get through it and aye, even at times made it so that she could stay longer with their elvin magic. It became harder though, as time passed. My lad, she is so very beautiful…and very kind. You would have been amazed, I'm sure as I was. She spent a lot of time talking with me. It is clear to me at least...she does love you."  
  
Frodo nods, beaming. . .and begins to cry with delight.  
  
"She. . .she really asked about me, and wanted you to make sure I try to get better? How long ago did you see her?"  
  
"I was able to secure a pony to Bree, so it didn't take me quite so long as before. Dwarves are accommodating chaps. You must mind to be very good to them when they show up in the Shire, Frodo, my lad. Handy friends to have, Dwarves. Lets see...almost 12 days ago now. While I was in Rivendell she had seen you, and bade me to make haste home. She said that she could not stay as long, and did not know why but that it was causing her head to hurt...And so here I am. Hir Elrond is checking into it, and perhaps they will find out what happened. She is very worried about you."  
  
The little Baggins sighs with great relief, beaming.  
  
"Oh, Bilbo. . .I'm so glad. . .I hope they find out soon, and help her. . .so she told you I was ill?"  
  
"Aye that she did. Quite amazing. You know she's smaller than most elves, wouldn't be surprised if she has some mixed blood in her somewhere down the line. And do you know, Frodo, she sings?" he smiles at the delight on the little one's face. "She is very shy about it, but after Linder sung one of mine, I begged her and she relented. I quite admit dinner had never been so interesting. There was no one with her though Frodo, I recall you saying something about a 'him' earlier. Hir Elrond told me she was unattached, and then Heryn Arwen smiled and said she was attached...to you. What do you make of that? These elves.."  
  
And shortly Angeline comes in with a lot of dishes upon a cart with wheels that folded into a table. It was something that Bilbo had had built for Bag-End because of its huge size. He always wanted to be able to eat wherever he wanted and not have to carry everything everywhere.  
  
Frodo beams. . .but his expression darkens anxiously.  
  
"Was she wearing. . .a little bracelet?"  
  
Bilbo looked down at Frodo and nodded, "She was at first, but she had taken it off sometime while I was there. She was not wearing it when I left as I recall. Her head still hurt quite a bit, but Heryn Arwen had given her something for it so she was able to be about until I left. Oh, I don't think tis anything serious, Lad. Elrond did not seem to think so either, and said for you not to worry." This of course does not mean that she doesn't have the bracelet, just that she had not immediately put it back on.  
  
Angeline smiles and starts to pour the wine for Bilbo who looks at her Gratefully. "What would you like to start with, Sweetie?" She asks Frodo.  
  
Still, the little hobbit sighs with relief. . .and looks at the dishes with actual interest sparkling in his eyes.  
  
"Ummmmmm. . .soup, maybe. . .easier to get down. . .and then some pumpkin, please? And juice. . .is it cranberry, or apple?"  
  
***** 


	19. Temptation Aug 3001

Short note : Sorry this is short. Anyway, this takes place when Frodo is just about to turn 33. About a month before the famous Birthday Party. There will actually be a couple more things between 2990 and   
3001 but they're not really significant to the story (Fillers).   
  
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CHAPTER 18 -- Temptation  
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Gailethil shivered. It was dark that night in Rivendell, and the sky was overcast with what seemed an endless shadow. She hoped that Frodo was doing okay. They had been writing back and forth for several years now. She stood on her balcony, gazing out over the Valley. Why, why did she have to remain here. It wasn't fair.  
  
She was wearing the bracelet tonight, it was the one thing that seemed to give her comfort, seemed to reassure her that everything would be alright. She couldn't explain it…but she saw something in it that reflected the stars.  
  
"Gailethil." it was the voice of her mother. She froze, for rare did her mother speak and almost never to her. Yet…she turned…and Torialas was standing there, as picture perfect in beauty as she had always been. Yet calm and tranquil…a sight rarely seen. There was no one with her mother, which was strange, because usually she was accompanied by someone at least.  
  
"Mother…" Gailethil did not go to her, but remained where she was. The other elleth had to come closer to her daughter.  
  
"Gailethil, I know that your heart is troubled." her mother said in that soft…bell like tone that both was a caress and crackled like fire.  
  
"Mother…how do you know?"  
  
"You are my daughter." she smiled…yet the smile was not real…not as real as it could have been. Had anyone else been present they would have shied away from the creature that was Gailethil's mother. But the elleth was so troubled that she took a step forward and was soon being held in the cold arms of the woman who had never once touched her in her entire life.  
  
Gailethil's tears fell suddenly, "He is real…mamma."  
  
"I know, Gailethil. I know. You want to see him…you want to leave this place don't you?"  
  
"Yes…more than anything. Why…why won't they take me there? He needs me…I can feel it…but my head hurts so much lately…pain even Arwen cannot heal." she shivered.  
  
"There now, there's a way that you can see him, you know. I know someone who will take you there." Torialas' eyes glittered.  
  
"Who Mamma? Who would go against the law of Elrond? I cannot…I cannot. I'm afraid."  
  
Glorfindel stepped out from the shadows where he had been silent before. "Hello Gailethil." And his smile was for her alone, his eyes were cast over though…like someone controlled him…like someone was playing for his soul. Within he'd already lost the battle, though he still struggled.   
  
"There's nothing to be afraid of. If you want to see him. Glorfindel will take you, and then bring you back quickly. I will tell your father you're on a camping trip in the valley. No one will know." Torialas had never spoken so many words to her. Perhaps it was a dream.  
  
"I….I…." she stared between the two of them. "Glorfindel. You've been here all the time? Uncle said you left Rivendell…I'm confused…I don't understand." her fingers went to her temple and she cringed In great pain.  
  
Torialas smiled, "He has just returned this evening, he's been with your brother. Now, you need not make the decision tonight. Rest and we'll decide later." The words were like a soft wave of suggestive energy that flowed over her. Gailethil's eyes drooped, and she nodded vaguely.  
  
"Yes…Rest…" and soon, she was asleep in Torialas' arms. Her mother grimaced and flung her into Glorfindel's with a scowl.  
  
"I don't see why I cannot just take her away now." Glorfindel held the elleth. And twas clear from that that the Elf was not himself. Glorfindel of old would never have considered breaking a law of Elrond…for anything.  
  
"Patience." Torialas murmured, "When the time is right. She will wake…and remember this as a dream. She will seek -you- out when she can no longer stand it."  
  
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Frodo had been pleasantly reading in his study when he felt a cold chill take control of him for the briefest moment. "Gailethil…" he didn't know why he thought of her just then. He fumbled for the pendant and breathed a sigh of relief when she was still visible within the diamond heart. He would be almost 33 soon, almost of age. And no longer would Bilbo be able to keep him in the Shire. He meant to go to Rivendell, however he could do it. He had to. His health…was not the greatest. He had been sick an awful lot over the last ten years. He had not seen much of her though, and what he had seen was very brief. Somehow…it was hurting her to come to him, and he had to put a stop to it, by going to her. He hated to see her in pain. He felt…terrified all of a sudden…as though all the world was looking in on him…as though his world was about to be destroyed.   
  
He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Something was wrong. Was Gailethil alright? He went to his window and looked up at the night sky, sighing. She had to be alright. She was an elf. Firstborn did not get sick…Firstborn did not die. He sighed again, that was really it though. She was Firstborn…and he…was not. Could he really expect her to give up immortality…he wanted to see her. Even if it was only for a moment. A terrible thought began to cross his mind…perhaps if he was sick…she would come to him. He almost wished he was sick…  
  
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	20. Revelations Rivendell 2990 Takes place...

Authors note : Um…I messed up on dates a little I think, but that's okay. Its fanfic, and you all get the general idea.J I apologize. This takes place BEFORE Chapter 17. Please note : Frodo Baggins of Bag End helped with the portrayal of Bilbo and wrote most of his part.  
  
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CHAPTER 19 -- Revelations  
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Bilbo has been in Rivendell for a couple of days now, but Elrond had been busy and not been able to see him. He had not yet given the ring to Frodo, and he was heading home to the shire...but he had wanted to stop in Rivendell...to ask about Gailethil for his nephew's sake. Finally, Elrond had summoned him to his study. "Enter." the words of the half-elvin lord are spoken with great calm.  
  
"Thank you!"  
  
The small hobbit waddled in and looked about for his usual chair. "I hope you had a chance for breakfast this morning! Most excellent, most excellent. . .I never would have thought the cooks here could rival the Shire's finest for sausages and gravy and biscuits! Splendid, Herdir, truly splendid! But now to our business. . .I hope this is about what I think it may be?"  
  
Elrond cleared his throat, "Well. It surely is a pleasure to have you back again, Bilbo, my old friend. But what do you think it may be about?" he leant back in his chair. The half-elvin lord had heard a few things, and he rubbed his chin slightly. "You have been looking about a bit more than you were last time when you were here. What is it that you are looking for, I wonder?"  
  
Bilbo nodded firmly as he settled back and rubbed his hands together briskly.  
  
"Well, sir, I was hoping that you'd called me here about *that* - you see, it's my little nephew - cousin, really, but he calls me uncle, dear boy. Anyhow. . .there's something that concerns me for him, and I want to know how to best help the lad."  
  
He drewsa deep breath and looked up at the elven-lord intently.  
  
"There's someone he talks about, and says lives here. I used to think it an imaginary playmate borne of my tales about the place and about your folk, but. . .it's gone far beyond that now. He's past that age. It could still be caused by fever; usually he sees her when he's ill, he says, and alone. And. . . ."  
  
The aging hobbit sighed as he rose to pace toward the window and looked back at Elrond nervously after a moment.  
  
"And once. . .*I* saw her myself."  
  
"Many things can be caused by a fever, old friend. " The Master of Rivendell nodded gravely. His eyes open wide as though he is surprised when Bilbo reveals that he saw her.   
  
Elrond steepled his fingers together. "Did you, and why would you have." he frowned deeply, concern etched in his brow. He does not further explain his question, nor did it seem a question directed to Bilbo exactly.  
  
"What does your nephew look like, Bilbo?  
  
The Elvin Lord rose from his chair and moved towards the side wall in his study. Packed with tomes...of all the ages and many kinds it was a library in itself. He began to run his finger over a few of the titles, as though he had been looking for something in particular. It did not seem like he does not believe the elderly hobbit, but he had yet to answer any questions.  
  
"I did, Herdir, plain as the nose on my face - plain as I'm seeing you, only - well, it was rather odd, and there's no reason I should have seen something that wasn't there!" insisted the hobbit anxiously. "He's a pale little slip of a thing, a bit tall, but too slender. . .thick curls, bark-brown, with great big blue eyes the likes of which you've not seen, fringed with nice thick sable eyelashes. A handsome little lad, though too thin for hobbit tastes, more like one of your own kind that way. . . ."  
  
  
Elrond nodded grimly and then he drew an old tome from the shelf and brought it over to the desk. "Stand up, and look." he nodded to Bilbo as he pulled it open to a particular page. The portrait…could have been drawn from life…but it was unmistakably Frodo…yellowed though with age as though it had been drawn … many many years ago…perhaps more than 50, maybe older. "Is this him?"  
  
He nodded towards the drawing with a steady hand.%r  
  
And Bilbo's eyes widened.  
  
"Why, yes! To the letter - that's even the same little tilt of his mouth that he has when he smiles! Looks like the way I remember him when he was a bit younger. . .getting over a bout with eating something bad, he was, and his aunt tucking him up on the couch and fussing over him. . .like he looked when I took him to visit Bag End after that. But - " He frowned at the page. "Goodness, such aged paper for such a drawing? And who here could have seen him?"  
  
"The paper is aged Bilbo…because it was drawn more than three hundred and seventy five years ago." he waited for that to sink in before he continued, his expression grave as he leant against his desk. The half-elvin lord seemed to have been expecting this moment for a very long time. Indeed…the magic of the elves was strong and their resolve stronger.   
  
Bilbo paled, blanching to a shade of chalk-white.  
  
"B-b-but. . .how can that BE? Has. . .has someone seen him in. . .in a vision? A prophecy?"  
  
Elrond nodded. "In a manner of speaking." he leaned over to lay a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "There is one here who has seen your nephew. Yea, even you." he turned the page...and there is a drawing of Bilbo himself. "We have known of your coming for many years, though not yet exactly what it means." he walked towards the door. "Follow me."  
  
His eyes wide, Bilbo followed, beginning to bite his nails nervously.  
  
He laid his hand on Bilbo's shoulder as they walked through the house of Elrond. They made their way through the gardens to a secluded section...and then he makes Bilbo stop. "Look..." he pointed her out to him. She sits in all her grace and gentle beauty, smiling at a sketchbook that she is working in. Her eyes shine with life and laughter as the sunlight bathed her in radiance. "That is my niece...Gailethil Firespring, daughter of Lomendil Firespring. She was born with Elbereth's gift, and has suffered since the time she could open her eyes and comprehend what goes on about her."  
  
At once Bilbo's eyes widened again, and he blinked and stammered in amazement.  
  
"That's the one! That's the one I saw. . .and th-that's what. . .what my Frodo calls her. . .Gailethil. . . ."  
  
He turned with difficulty to Elrond, his eyes wide with astonishment.  
  
"What is Elbereth's Gift? What does this mean? I tell you, Elrond, 'tis her! I - "  
  
His face softened.  
  
"I should go to her on bent knee and kiss her feet. . .so often she has held my boy when I could not be with him, cared for and comforted him. . . ."  
  
"The gift of Elbereth is the gift of site. The means to transcend this earth and travel in places that neither you nor I could walk. And there will be time for that, my friend. But not now…Come…we must not disturb her." He urged Bilbo away.  
  
Gailethil looked up as though she might hear something, but she went back to her drawing   
  
"Bilbo." Elrond clears his throat. "There are some things that you should know. But first, tell me how you saw her."  
  
"Well, you see, I don't exactly know. . ." explained Bilbo as he strolled away reluctantly with the elven-lord. "It wasn't all that long after Drogo and Primula, his parents, drowned. . .I'd known he was a delicate lad, but he was ill and no one sent for me until it was almost too late, and when I arrived he was out of his head, I thought. Pneumonia. . .he was burning up with fever. Anyhow, he kept seeming to look at someone who wasn't there, and. . .I feared the worst, but. . .something happened. She touched my hand. . .put her hands on my finger. . .and on Frodo's, and I felt the touch and. . .that's when I saw her."  
  
He rubbed it absently: it was his ring-finger.  
  
Elrond placed his hands behind his back and walked thoughtfully beside Bilbo. He looked down as the hobbit rubbed his finger. "Bilbo, my niece has often spoken about your boy, as she was growing up, and sometimes even now she will see him every so often. " he cleared his throat, "My niece's destiny is tied to Rivendell, and cannot leave here. By all rights this should never have happened. She Is Elf, he is a Hobbit."  
  
Bilbo averted his gaze, anxiously fingering something at his pocket. "Well, Master Elrond, my boy was almost lost to me, too, more than once. But she saved him. And I know he loves her. Do you think that means nothing, just because our lives are so much shorter?"  
  
"And she loves him." Elrond nodded in response. "But there are circumstances, Bilbo. Circumstances that are beyond our control. I will not allow her to leave Rivendell, and he must not come here, he must not leave the protection of the Shire."  
  
"But…I don't understand." Bilbo blinked up at the Elvin lord. "Please…"  
  
"Bilbo Baggins. If I could bring them together I would, for I have watched her these many years and I know where her heart lies. Terrible creatures hunt her, Bilbo, and they seek her whenever she visits your Nephew. I fear that were he to leave the protection of the shire they would set upon him. Whatever is there is safe for the moment…and he is linked to it. Trolls are not the worst of Gailethil's enemies, Bilbo. There are far more terrible things that hunt for her when she is in vulnerable places. They come from Mordor." Elrond waited for Bilbo's reaction before continuing.  
  
Bilbo turned white as a sheet an sat down on a nearby bench clutching at his heart. "Mordor--…But…The evil there was destroyed…"  
  
"No." Elrond shook his head. "It remains, and awoke many years ago. Terrible demons that are stalking the land…and their eyes are fixed upon Rivendell. They want Gailethil…and we know not yet why."  
  
"But I cannot go back to the Shire and tell him he can't see her…he will be devastated." Bilbo cried.  
"I have an idea." Elrond turned away for a moment, then looked back. "What if we told them he could not see her because of his age and health? That would stall him for a while…he's what 22 now? It will be 11 years before he is even of age to consider love in an adult fashion. Gailethil is over 375, but she is still a child in many ways for we have protected her since the day she was born on the words of Lady Galadriel herself. Tell him that he is too weak to make the journey, there are dangers. Make any excuse you can. But do not let him leave the Shire. I will take you to meet Gailethil, I have already spoken at length with her father and we have discussed what may be allowed. She will write him a letter and he will know that she is not a dream, that she is real, and he will be permitted to write her back."  
  
Bilbo sighed, "Are you absolutely sure this is the only way? He really wanted to meet her. I don't know how I'm going to tell him…" he shook his head. "Mordor…I don't understand what this all means, but I will not let any harm come to my boy."  
  
"Are you sure Bilbo…Are you really Sure?" Elrond peered at him with eyes that seemed to stare into his very soul and looked down at his hands where he was rubbing his ring finger. "Are you absolutely positive you have no idea."  
  
He looked away with a guarded expression. "I am." and immediately changed the subject. "May I meet her now?"   
  
Elrond frowned, regarding the little hobbit with a fierce expression. But…twas no use, there was no getting Information out of Bilbo when he did not want to give it. "I will take you back to her."  
  
And they walked in silence back to the Elleth who still sat in the radiant sun.  
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Author's Note ; And so it happened that Bilbo met Gailethil and what he talked about in Chapter 17 occurred. 


	21. A Tender Moment Shire 3001

Author's Note : This chapter is -sad-. Cute but -sad-. If you don't like Angst….well..I would suggest not reading it. I'll summarize what happened in the end so you can skip it if need be. This is a description of the kind of thing Gailethil does for Frodo when he's ill and why he loves her so much. Frodo Baggins of Bag End wrote for the part of Frodo. I recommend visiting her site on fan fiction.net.J  
  
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CHAPTER 20 -- A tender moment  
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It is late, and even Bilbo was already in bed for the night. The evening air was still warm with summer, but this seemed little comfort to one tiny hobbit curled up in his window-seat. . .Frodo, looked positively miserable, his small nose reddened with irritation. He seemed mildly flushed, as if he might have been running a slight fever, and looked close to tears, sitting wrapped in blankets and quilts as he clutched a pocket-hankerchief, gazing out at the night sky. . .at the stars.  
  
The candle flickered and a warm light breeze flooded through the room. A little sigh accompanies it, and she leaned on the bedpost of Frodo's large featherbed. She was dressed in a robe, silvery and fine with long sleeves, and her hair was down and whisped in the breeze. She rubbed her eyes wearily and looked confused when she does not see him in bed. There was a soft glow about her for a brief moment.  
  
He turned suddenly. . .and his eyes brighted a little. "Gailethil. . . ." As he blinked back tears, he put out his arms hopefully.  
  
She straightened and walked over to him, her movements a little slower than usual. Once she is at his side she wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace, and kissed his cheek. "Frodo. What are you doing out of bed when your sick?" Her words were slow and careful and she raised her hand to check his cheeks and forehead as she smiled gently.   
  
His eyes flew at once to her wrist…and he sighed with relief when he did not see the bracelet there. He promptly folded into her arms as she embraces him. "I. . .I couldn't sleep. . .I caught cold, and I don't feel at all well. . . ."  
  
Indeed, he was warm to the touch. . .not burning hot as he had been during some of his gravest illnesses, but he was a little too warm. . .and he seemed listless save for his interest in her. He clung tightly to her, as if anxious not to let her go.  
  
She nodded gently and lifted him up slowly, as though he might be heavier than he used to be., her smile ever soft and pleasant. "I was thinking about you just now." She carried him over to the bed and drew down the sheets. "Have you taken any medicine for it? Where is your Uncle?" Around her wrist there Is a hint of a shadow where the bracelet might have been, as though perhaps she had been wearing it but had recently taken it off.   
  
He sniffled, pouting a little. "No. . .but I feel awful. . . . He's asleep. . .it's not long until the party. . .I couldn't bear to let him know really. . . . He's hardly seen me, anyhow. Always busy with all the preparations; he leaves me to myself. I haven't had any medicine. . . ." Her effort at starting to put him to bed seemed to console him a little, and he quieted down a bit.  
  
She rummaged in the small table by his bed where Bilbo usually kept things handy. Since Bilbo had become aware of her, he had made sure that things were prepared just in case. In Rivendell, Arwen had been slowly instructing her in the healing ways. She smiled a little, remembering a note he'd left her once. "You should have told someone, Frodo. AND you should have taken some medicine…its right here after all." she shook her head softly. "You cannot keep taking everything upon yourself. Let people take care of you. Its okay to need help. I know you're older now, but you don't have to do everything yourself." she eventually found what she was looking for, a bottle of elderberry-chamomile syrup specially made for Frodo. She still held one of his hands while doing so.  
  
He clutched her hand miserably, and whimpered a little as he watched her search and discovery of the bottle. "It tastes awful….I'm trying to be an adult. . .I'm almost an adult, but. . .honestly, Gailethil. . .I don't feel like one. . .the only good thing is that maybe now I can come and see you, once I come of. . .ah-ah-ah-CHOO!. . .of age. . . ." The sneeze provoked a small bout of coughing, and he made a slight face.  
  
She smiled, and poured a bit of the syrup. "This will help. Will you? I would like that...I wish I could be here for your birthday. Daddy is having a party for me too. I know how you feel. I mean...I'm no longer a child, and yet...I feel younger than everyone. Tis how everyone is taking care of me I think. They hardly let me out of site. I rarely get any privacy you know..." She edged closer on the bed to attempt to coax him to drink the concoction. And she studied him for just a moment. "You look older now....and you are very handsome...even when you have a cold."  
  
He blushed, beaming. . .but sniffled as he drinks the syrup down. "No one takes care of me any more, except you, when you're here. . .and I'm too old to ask for my auntie. . .Bilbo feels I'm old enough to be on my own now, so he leaves me to it. . .I didn't eat anything at supper and he didn't even notice. He used to."  
  
"He's got a lot on his mind, I think, Frodo. I know he loves you." She poured one more spoonful and nodded, her movements were a little slower than normal. It was not as though she did not want to be doing what she's was doing, but its was just a tiny bit different. Her eyes were bright still…glittering with the constellations reflected within, and she was still as warm as she ever was. Though perhaps a little paler than normal.. "Perhaps next year we'll spend our birthdays together…"  
  
He swallowed the medicine and shivered a little as he waited to be tucked in and cuddled. "I hope so. . .I'm lonely. . .and I know he's got a lot on his mind, but. . . ." The tweenager sighed. "It's not that I want people always hovering; I don't. . .but. . ."  
  
"I understand Frodo…Are you worried about him? He's a fine hobbit, Frodo. Uncle says he's far more energy than any hobbit that he's ever met. I think…You do want someone here though, don't you…to pay attention to you. Its okay to want to be taken care of, to want to have someone nearby that you can depend on. " she takes a small jar out of the drawer, ".I'm going to put some of this ointment on your chest, just to be sure so that your cough does not get worse, alright? Can you open your shirt, please?"  
  
He nodded, and unbuttoned his nightshirt, pulling it open to expose his tiny chest. . .frail and slender as ever. "Yes. . .I'm worried about him; he seems. . .I don't know. . . ." He struggled for a moment. "There's something not right, and I can't put my finger on it. . .ah-ah-CHOO!. . .'scuse me. . .but at the same time, I'm scared. . .and lonely, too. . .especially right now. . . ."  
  
She smiled, no longer embarrassed to see him as she had been in the past. She took a bit of the ointment on her fingers and began to rub his chest with it. "I think some hot tea and soup…the steam might clear up your sinuses.." Just then she winced just a little. It was barely perceptible but a wince nonetheless. Her fingers continue to work their way over his chest thoroughly. "I'm sure that he is alright, Frodo….and I'm here now…there's no need to feel lonely."  
  
He smiled gratefully. . .and nodded. "Soup I'm not sure 'bout; Bilbo put some on for me, but everything tastes funny with this cold. . . ." Her touch seemed to comfort him, but he was also aware of the slight wince. "Are you all right, Gailethil?"  
  
She buttoned up his shirt and touched his cheek fondly once done with the ointment. "I'm fine, Frodo….just a little headache is all." she reassured him gently and gathered him in her arms as she curled up at his side.   
  
He nestled against her, nodding. "I'll try if you want me to. . .I can't really taste anything. . .I don't like to eat when I can't taste and I'm not hungry. . .but if you think I should, I could try a little. . . ."  
  
She simply held him in her arms, "We need to let the medication work. In a moment…I'll get you some tea and soup in just a bit. Frodo...Will you be okay for a little bit while I go to the kitchen?" she looked at him and smiles, "I missed you..."  
  
"I missed you too. . . ." He smiled also as he snuggled into her arms in a tiny bundle, and nodded. "There's cinnamon-ginger tea, I think; Bilbo keeps it around for when I catch a chill. . .and honey, too. . .I might be able to taste that. . . ." He curled up snugly. "I don't mind waiting like this. . .it makes me feel better having you here. . . ."  
  
She kissed his forehead and then released him. Before she rose from the bed she tucked the covers around him. "I'll be back." It did not take her long and she returns with a tray of tea, left-over mushroom soup from the previous upper, and a couple of ginger cookies. She filled a tea-cup for Frodo and coaxed him to drink some.  
  
Obediently he sipped, drinking eagerly. . .her presence seemed to comfort him, and he took the tea with reassuring interest. "Mmmmm. . .that's better. . .thank you. . . ." he managed between sips as he gazed up at her. He diddn't seem interested in the soup yet.  
  
"Why don't you try one of those ? Perhaps….well…Daddy likes to dunk them in his tea…Maybe they will go down easier that way." she glanced back at him and smiled, her own special smile that was reserved for him alone.  
  
"All right. . ." He smiled back a little and tried dunking one of the cookies. He swirled it in the tea a little before taking a tiny bite and munching quietly, snuggling into the covers with a small shiver.  
  
"I'm glad I'm here, Frodo…" She smiled at him, resting on the edge of the bed.  
  
"So am I…" He smiled a tiny bit. "This is never the same with anyone else. . .I don't have a good answer when people ask me who's my best friend, because it's you. . . ." The cough came on again. . .but easier this time, less harsh and painful.  
  
"And you've always been mine. I have friends in Rivendell, but everyone is so much older than me. Those who I am acquainted with. Most people...avoid me because...because of mamma...and me. " she sighed a little. "But you never did…You always want me to be with you. Well...I have friends...but not really. My only real friends are my brothers friends." she shrugged..."No one understands what...what I was going through except Arwen and Elrond. Arwen...Arwen is my friend. She's teaching me about healing…You would like her I think. And Daddy. He's wonderful. He and Bilbo talked for days on end, you know. I think...I think they talked about us."  
  
"It sounds wonderful. . . ." He sighed contentedly and nodded as he rested against her, eyes closed once more. He seemed to really not be interested in the soup. "I would love to go there. . .maybe soon; it's almost time Bilbo can't use my age as an excuse any longer. . . ."  
  
"They kept telling me that too...that you were not strong enough...and too young. But you're not young to me. You've been through a lot...we've been through a lot together. Why can't they just let us be together...I know...I know that we're different..." a tear fell down her cheek and she blinked it away. Had she also been having the same worries? "Uncle keeps saying that it is because of my destiny. I think they are all afraid of something...I'm starting to feel it more and more. Sometimes...Frodo...sometimes I'm so afraid…I can't breathe…"  
  
"So am I. . ." he murmured. . .but began coughing again, this time with more difficulty in his breathing.  
  
"I think something happened that they're not telling us about Frodo...try to relax...Please..." She gently rubbed his back and let him curl up next to her. "When I'm with you....I feel safe. Like you will make everything right...like you will make sure that nothing will ever hurt me...I can't explain..." she smiled "But I love you...and I know that someday...someday we'll be together...for always. I believe that you're my destiny Frodo...and I don't care what anyone says..."  
He nodded weakly, and looked as if he wanted to say more. . .but the cough was too severe and though he tried to relax, he still seemed to have difficulty getting it stopped. "I love you too - " he whispered, but managed no more.  
  
Gailethil reached over for the tea and tried to get him to drink some more of it to ease his coughing. "Just a little, Muin…" she frowned, trying to figure out what it was she should do by his condition. Trying to remember Arwen's teaching. She continues to rub his back to ease the cough.  
  
He sipped a little of the warm drink as she coaxes before he manged to speak. "It's helping. . That…feels good. . .just the cough's bothering me. . . ."  
  
"I'll look for more medicine when we get out...can you tell me what your Uncle usually gives you?" She had an Idea that he needed more than one type of medication…for his symptoms were a combination.  
  
"Uh-huh. . .he gives me the medicine you did earlier. . .and something else when I have a bad cough. . .tastes sort of cherry. . .with thyme. . .it should be in my night-table with the other. . . . The first one is elderberry and peppermint and chamomile to help a cold and bring down fever and help me sleep. . .the cherry one helps coughing. . . ." He snuggled into a little bundle against her.  
  
She rose, tucking him in, and searched in the table drawer and finally found a note from Bilbo with instructions on which bottle to use. She smiled. "I think I've found it." she drew the bottle out from the back of the drawer.  
  
He smiles up at her, a positively adorable bundle of curls and big blue eyes. Snuggled into the covers, he nodded, watched her with interest.  
  
"That's it. . .Bilbo always gives me that when I have a bad cough. . . . Would you mind. . .do you think I could have some more covers, please?."  
  
She found another quilt and drew it over him, tucking it securely about him and poured a spoonful. "Now…I know it tastes nasty… but have to get some of this down...and then eat something in the morning okay? Did you finish the cookies?"  
  
He opend his tiny mouth and took the medicine obediently. . He nodded, smiling a little. "I ate one. . .I could probably drink some more tea. . .or soup. . .whatever's ready and easier. . .if you don't mind?" He sniffled, little red nose threatening to go drippy again, and quickly poked about for a pocket-handkerchief beneath his pillows.  
  
As the tea was still warm she pours him another cupful, stirring a bit of milk and cream into it.. She frowned a little at his sniffling. "I hope that medication works soon so you can get a good nights rest."  
  
He offers another little smile as he took the tea carefully. "Usually it takes a couple of doses for the elder thing to help my nose. . .but the cough medicine usually helps quickly. . . ." He sighed, "I don't really feel like the soup after all…" He snuggle into the warm covers, seeming a little better. . .still a bit feverish, still ill, but a cute little bundle nestled cosily into a comfortable bed. "Thank you for taking care of me, Gailethil. . . ."  
  
She smiled warmly. "You are welcome, Muin." she seemed a little better herself…though she was still…a little pale. She looked him over gently. "I think some more of the cough syrup and then…you should be able to sleep."  
  
He mad a tiny face. "Please. . .I don't want to wake up coughing. . .but I do think I could go to sleep with you rubbing the stuff on my chest. . .though I. . .I'm scared you'll be gone again when I wake. . . ."  
  
She let him have another spoonful of the syrup, then smiled gently and gazed at him with a little sigh. "Frodo…Frodo I can't stay long…it hurts…a lot lately…Don't be sad. Please don't be sad. I don't want you to get worse. Please…please promise me you won't be sad…that you'll get better, even if I'm not here? You know that I love you. You know that this is real. Its only a matter of time…" To an elf…time did not mean as much as it did to a Hobbit.  
  
He began to cry nonetheless. . .the medicine seemed of little use to ease him with this news, and he promptly sat up, and reached over to cling to her. "I love you too. . .I don't want you to hurt, but. . .I don't want you to leave me. . .please. . .*please*, Gailethil. . . ." And the tiny hobbit sobbed as if his heart would break.  
  
"Frodo...my melleth...my tinw muin. I love you so much..." she held him in her arms...letting him cry. Tears fell from her own eyes as she buried her head on his shoulder. "I can't stop it..." she gulped back a sob. "I can't...I'm sorry. .You have to be brave. Its only for a little while...You'll be of age soon...Whatever you do...I'll be there....waiting for you. I promise..."  
  
And he sobbed on her shoulder, cuddled in her arms. . .until he cries himself to sleep.  
  
And as always…in the morning she was gone. But Bilbo had noticed him coughing during the night and came in to check on him…so he had someone to make sure he got well.  
  
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Author's Note : They both complain that their families are holding them apart. Frodo says Bilbo is using his age against him as an excuse to keep him here, and Gailethil says that Elrond is refusing to let her leave Rivendell and her family is stifling her with constant surveillance. She takes care of him just before the party (about a month before the party) because he has not told Bilbo he's ill as he's trying to 'be an adult' and prove to his Uncle that he's capable of taking care of himself. Gailethil premonitions that Frodo will 'save them all' in this chapter. It also says how Bilbo left 'notes' for Gailethil because he began to accept her presence and how Arwen is teaching her about healing. 


	22. Be Careful What You Wish For ShireRivend...

AUTHOR'S NOTE : I apologize that I haven't had an update in the last four days. I've been v.busy with Spring Coronation and the Play that I'm in. I know I said this would be the Long Expected Party…but it's a bit difficult to write since Frodo Baggins of Bag End and I are summarizing a lot of things in our own words. This chapter is written by me.  
  
PS : For more Gailethil/Frodo see my "All in Frodo's Mind" fic. Its about the nightmares Frodo has. Some are rather violent, so its rated R where this stuff is PG-13.  
  
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CHAPTER 21 -- Be careful what you wish for  
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Tomorrow was the big day of the party. He had hardly been able to sleep the last couple of days, but was definitely over the flu that he had had earlier on that month. They'd all been concerned that he would not make it through, but he managed. He always did. He sighed, lying in bed…wide awake. He wanted … he wasn't sure what he wanted, he just knew that this was not it. He wanted her arms around him, that's what he wanted. He was cold, and had felt cold all day for some reason. He wasn't ill…he knew that, he just…he wished sometimes that he could be with her when he was not sick and was beginning to wonder if she would like him when he wasn't? He must seem to be like a little doll to her. He closed his eyes, not someone she could really love…or want. He remembered their first kiss, and knew it was hers as well. Yet…something nagged in the back of his mind. He was not her kind. He was not an elf. He was going to die someday. How could he -really- expect her to want to stay with him? He curled up into a little ball, pulling all the blankets around him. It was unfair of him to do so. He opened his eyes, tears shimmering in them. It was about time to grow up and face facts, he was no longer a child. But a little part of him clung to the hope that she loved him for himself and he wished…he wished with all his heart that he could see her again…just one more time…before he could no longer really expect her to take care of him….before he was forced to grow up and forget dreams.  
  
Frodo drifted off to sleep…or so he thought anyway. The image came into his mind…the little star bracelet that had frightened him so much shone like a bright beacon in the night. As it came into focus…he rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed. Over at a large window seat, she was sitting down, her legs curled up underneath her, and she was wearing it…The window was open, letting the cool night air filter through the room and he wasn't entirely sure if he was there. He called out, but she did not hear him. This was not his room.   
  
She turned around, peering for the moment at her bed…had she heard someone cry her name? No…just the wind. There was no one in the room but her. She was thinking about Frodo, because this was the last day before her birthday. Her father was throwing another party for her and she often wondered when he would stop doing that. Not many other elves had parties every year. She was wearing a soft white nightdress and a robe pulled over it. She fingered the bracelet on her wrist absently, turning it around and around, wondering why Frodo was so upset by it. The opal stars glittered and flickered with unseen flames.  
  
Frodo cringed, his head pounding as though something sharp had sliced through it. He stared helplessly at her, fear building up in his heart. "Take it off…" he begged, but she did not hear him, nor did she see that he was even there. Shadows were building around her wrist, and they seemed to cling and fade. There was a knock at her door. Frodo's eyes turned to it, he was too preoccupied with the bracelet to even notice.  
  
"Come in." she glanced over her shoulder at the door. Glorfindel was there, carrying a tray with two cups of tea.   
  
"I was told you were up." he smiled at her, his eyes drifting around the room. The tall handsome elf looked very well in the white that he wore, his hair pulled back. Frodo managed to drag his eyes from the bracelet to stare at him. His eyes wide…who…was this? "I thought I would come by and see how you were doing."  
  
"I feel better." she smiled a little wanly, "Yet still awfully tired." she yawns a little, "I don't understand it. Glorfindel…Where have you been? You know Uncle's been looking for you."  
  
From the first moment that he saw the elf, Frodo was uneasy…he just did not like the look of him and he usually was a pretty good judge of character. He seemed…off…somehow. He watched, unable to do anything else but that. The elf put the tray down by Gailethil's side and she took one of the tea-cups thankfully and drank as though parched.  
  
"Easy now." Glorfindel warned her, "I know. I'll talk with him soon." he took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. "Its been a long time. That's tea all the way from Rohan, I hope you like it."   
  
Frodo cringed as he watched, his mouth open in confusion. Gailethil…was sick? Bilbo said elves did not get sick. His head reeled.   
  
"You've been that far away?" she looked at him in wonder, and set the cup down. She felt a little odd, and somewhat dizzy. Glorfindel noticed and steadied her in his arms.  
  
"I've had things to do." he explained without explaining. "You should be resting, Gail." his hand stroked her head gently.   
  
It was all Frodo could do not to burst into tears right then and there. Who was he? Was he the one who gave her the bracelet? Was he the friend she kept talking about. He curled up, unable to turn away, not wanting to watch more. Not wanting to jump to conclusions.  
  
Glorfindel pressed her to drink some more of the tea and then smiled a bit as she did. Frodo did not like that smile. He did not like Glorfindel at all.  
  
"I guess so." she shrugged a little, "I was tired of lying down all the time." she admits. "Its my birthday tomorrow…and I won't be able to go to the party." she yawned suddenly. "I'm sorry…" her eyes fluttered a bit as she tried to keep them open.  
  
"Oh…sure you will." Glorfindel assured her, "You'll be just fine. That's why I came back, you know. Its your birthday. Tell me…have you still been having those visions?"  
  
"Yes." she nodded softly, "Though not since I've been ill…I really wish Uncle would let me go see him. Do you think there's any way I can? Oh…" she sighed, "I can't go against Uncle, of course." she smiled, "I'm glad you're back, Glorfindel." she leaned over and hugged him affectionately as one might hug a big brother.   
  
Frodo watched, still confused…but then his eyes shifted to the tea, then to Glorfindel, then to the bracelet. His mouth closed and his eyes glittered. What could he do? He was not like Gailethil…he couldn't interfear…he was not really here. It was a dream, wasn't it? He'd wake up soon…from this nightmare…  
  
And it was only the hug that she managed for shortly thereafter she drifted to sleep and her head lolled back. Glorfindel caught her head with one hand and scooped her up, into his arms. He carried her over to the bed and laid her down, tucking her in the covers. He sat on the side of the bed and watched her for a little while as she slept in complete oblivion. His fingers moved to pull the hair from her face and touch her cheek. Then he leaned down and kissed her lips tenderly. "Rest well, Melleth. Soon….you will come to me." He lifted the back of her hand that held the bracelet and kissed that as well. Then…he must have felt Frodo's presence somehow…and he looked almost directly into the stricken hobbit's eyes. He smiled, and Frodo could tell that something was not right about that smile…something…was inside of this particular elf. Something…he did not like at all.  
  
Frodo watched as he left the room, taking the tray with him, then looked down at Gailethil frantically. "Wake up, Gail." he tried to shake her…but she wouldn't wake, and simply lay there in all her beauty. "Oh…please…." he begged., tears springing into his eyes. "Please wake up….please…"  
  
"Frodo…Frodo wake up." he heard Merry's voice and felt himself being shaken, and he was forced to realize that day had broken and he was back in Bag End. "Happy Birthday, Cousin!" he laughed as he sat on the side of the bed. "We thought you were never going to get up. C'mon! Its time to get things ready for tonight!"  
  
Frodo was pale and tried very hard to collect himself. He struggled not to fall to pieces, focusing upon his cousin through shimmering eyes.  
  
"What's wrong Frodo?" Merry noticed…he always noticed. There was nothing that really did -get- past Merry. The younger hobbit then raised his eyebrows in surprise when Frodo began to cry. He frowned, remembering the words of his Aunt Angeline…and sighed a bit. She had warned him that Frodo might act a bit strange. He guessed it was up to him and drew his cousin into his arms, letting him cry.  
  
*** 


	23. The Call of Shadows Rivendell 3001

Author's note : The party already happened. You all know what occurred there. At any rate, in this AU. Merry, Pippin and Sam all stay at Bag End because Frodo fell very ill just after the Party. This is what happened in Rivendell. Gailethil was been unconscious when Glorfindel gave her the tea, and then when Bilbo put on the ring, she awoke from wherever she was...into hell. There has been a couple of days of Gailethil sick with fever and delirium. In short…She's becoming a Ring Wraith. Its up to Arwen and Elrond to save her. (The Drug that Glorfindel gave her was not powerful enough to stop her from hearing the call of the Ring, it was meant to knock her out. for at least a week. They gave her the drug because they wanted to make sure she didn't go to Frodo.)  
  
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CHAPTER 22 -- Rivendell 3001 -- "The call of Shadows." -- September   
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She thought she might have heard the words…she wasn't sure. "I'm going now…Goodbye." She thought she might have seen his face…she wasn't sure. She thought even she might see him there with her. She was somewhere dark and cold and she wanted to get out of it, but she was also weak and tired. She wrapped her arms about herself feeling as though something was forcing her back away from her quiet place. It was cold…too cold…and she began to cry, she opened her eyes…but all she saw were shadows in a hazy light. They loomed around her, beckoned. Some forming…some not. "Frodo…" she called his name in her delirium. It seemed she had been running forever from the shadows.  
  
Arwen changed the cloth on Gailethil's wet forehead. The elleth was perspiring terribly now, her clear sky-blue eyes open and glazed as though she was awake…but somewhere else. She shivered violently, chilled to the bone even wrapped in several blankets. Her hand clutched the Evenstar's as the younger elleth found it difficult to breathe.  
  
"Father, isn't there more that we can do?" Arwen gazed over at Elrond who was on the other side of the bed, singing softly. The words and song of the master healer were doing little to comfort or draw the elleth back to the light.   
  
"Something has a hold on her." Elrond said quietly, and brought his finger to his lips. The ancient elf lent his own hand to Gailethil's cheek. Icy-cold to the touch it was, every vein visible. His soft song was the only thing that calmed her somewhat…eased her breathing as his voice laced through the room in a gentle chorus. "And it won't let go."  
  
"Is it Frodo?" Arwen brushed her hair out of the way as she rubbed Gailethil's hand, trying to instill warmth into the elleth.   
  
"No…" Elrond shook his head, he paused very briefly in his singing…and this caused the elleth's breathing to quicken again and she gasped as though she could not find air. He then continued, his hand laid against her cheek, drawing her to a calmer place as best he could. Gailethil slowly began to calm a little, but remained in another place, sweat building again on her brow.   
  
Arwen had to change the cloth once again. "It is almost like she does not even hear us." she gazed at her father. "We can't lose her…not now…"  
  
"She is hanging on by a thread." Elrond subsides in his singing for the moment, for the song seems to have comforted the elleth, her breathing became a little more regular, though she still stared at nothing…and her eyes were haunted and glazed. "What do you see, Gailethil?" he asked, he thought she might hear him…but he was not certain.  
"Shadows and death." she moaned…she did hear…but she could not recognize the voice. "He…waits for me…the pain will be over…if I go to him. I can see him…just…across the river…he holds his hand out to me…but I'm afraid…"  
  
"Gailethil listen to me." Elrond's voice is loud and clear. "Hear my voice, and none other…do not cross the river. Do not take his hand…you must not." his own ran through her wet hair, brushing it away from her little face.   
  
"Cold…" she began to shiver. "I'm very cold…There's no warmth here…But…" she started to shiver more, her whole body beginning to shudder.. "There's somewhere I could go…that's warm…He says…"  
  
"Gailethil…don't listen to that voice. Hear mine…and mine alone. Follow the sound of the song." Elrond began to sing once again, and then Arwen joins in. Their hands both touched as their words flowed through the room in a harmony of light cutting a path into the darkness that the elleth was trapped within.   
  
She heard singing, and sank to the ground, huddling away from everything. She brought her legs up and wrapped her arms around herself, staring in fear and fascination at the shadows that drew at her with their icy fingers. Her eyes watched the gathering of shadows across the river, a terrible fear building within her, she could not drag her gaze from them no matter how hard she tried, though she fells silent.  
  
"She's not responding." Arwen gazed helplessly at the elleth, and had to change the cloth once again.  
  
"She is…" Elrond smiled sadly, "Tis just that we have stalled the inevitable…we must find what is causing this. What is holding her there."  
  
And the bracelet, unbeknownst to the elders as they poured their attention over the ailing elleth tightened a little around her wrist.  
  
"We have to bring down the fever." Elrond nodded to Arwen. He rose quickly . "You must bathe her, in hot water…very hot water. Hot enough to make her sweat…then wrap her in blankets. Its going to hurt her, but it's the only thing we can do that will be fast."  
  
"Yes…will she be able to take it? She is so frail…" Arwen gazed at the elleth, stroking her hair gently.   
  
"Frodo…" Gailethil whimpered helplessly, rocking back and forth in a little ball in the darkness, tears collecting in her eyes. "Where are you? I can't find you…"  
  
"She must." Elrond would not take no for an answer.   
  
* * * 


	24. Alone Shire 3001

Author's note : This is taking place roughly at the same time as the previous chapter. Give or take a few days. Anyway. Frodo Baggins of Bag end wrote for the part of Frodo and for Lilian.J Please visit her site here, she's an awesome writer.J  
  
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CHAPTER 23 -- The Shire 3001 -- "Alone"  
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It was unusually chill for autumn. . .and inside Bag End, Frodo's room was heated by a blazing fire in the hearth, though even this seemed at times insufficient to comfort the young heir, who shivered as chills wracked his small body. He tossed restlessly in his bed, moaning, soaked with perspiration: an icy sweat drenched his burning brow, and he looked pale. . .deathly pale, despite the eerie flush of hectic pink across his high cheekbones. He had slept a bit, with Merry's coaxing, but he seemed miserable, and with good reason. . .he seemed very ill indeed, and had thrown up repeatedly, too sick at his stomach even to keep down medicine or cooling drink; in addition, his breathing seemed difficult and quick.  
  
He begged for Gailethil. . .but she did not come, and there was no answer to his pleas.  
  
He began to ask for Bilbo, but remembered. . .and began to weep, as he felt horribly alone.  
  
And by now, afternoon of the third day after the Party, he found that he had never felt so alone. . .not even when his parents died, for then he had Bilbo to come, and Gailethil. . .and then his auntie. . .and now there was no one. . .no one save his younger cousins, who did not understand. . . .  
  
Weakly he turned in bed, feeling as if he might be on the verge of being sick again, he tries not to cough for fear of provoking a bout of vomiting. He felt at once cold and hot, and utterly miserable. . .where was Merry? He wanted something to drink. . .and a cloth for his head. . .and another blanket. . .but most of all, someone. . .someone with him, to hold his hand and stroke his hair. . . .  
  
Where was Gailethil?  
  
With Glorfindel, no doubt, he thought bitterly, burying his face in the pillows.  
  
There was a movement by the door and Merry came in quickly with some juice and fresh cloths. "Frodo." he set the juice down and looked down at his older cousin in concern. He'd never seen him like this before, not really. Once or twice when he was a small child and Frodo was staying at Brandy Hall.   
  
"Frodo, I've got some cool juice here, like you wanted." He sat down on the edge of the bed and wondered where Angeline was, but knew it took time to get from Brandy Hall to Hobbiton. He hoped she hurried.   
  
Frodo had not spoken much, but the look in his eyes whenever he opened them spoke volumes. His cousin looked like he lost everything. Merry changed the cloth on Frodo's forehead , worrying about the level of the fever. He pulled a blanket back up over the young master of Bag End that had been kicked off the bed earlier. "Frodo, tell me what's wrong?" he tried to help lift his cousin a little so he could drink from the glass.  
  
Pippin at the door, glanced inside, "Merry..is he ready for something to eat?" the younger hobbit was for once in his life properly subdued. "Sam wants to know."  
  
It was raining heavily outside, and Merry supposed that was what was taking Angeline a while. He had stressed urgency in his letter.  
  
"No. . . ."  
  
Moaning, Frodo opened his eyes and looked up at Merry through blue eyes half-clouded by delirium. That look of horrible and complete loss, however, has not dimmed: he seems devastated, and the expression in his features is one of despair.  
  
"No. . .I feel sick. . .maybe a sip. . .of. . .of juice. . . . I w-want. . .Bilbo. . .please. . .o-or. . .Gailethil. . . . Oh, Merry. . . ."  
  
He began to cry once more, his breath came too quickly, in short, tremulous gasps.  
  
"Pippin, get me a fresh basin of water and tell Sam to put some ice in it." Merry directed immediately. He frowned at his cousin, Gailethil...where had he heard that name before? "Frodo...Bilbo's gone, I'm sorry...He's not going to come… Who is Gailethil?" He tried to get Frodo to drink a little of the juice, not too much, but just a bit. Its regular cool apple juice.  
  
Pippin looked as though he was going to ask something but Merry ordered sharply, "Now!" and Pippin hurried off.   
  
"Look here, Frodo, you've got to drink something, its not good for the fever. Aunty told me. Come on now." His arm is a steady one, but its a small one, and not someone who is about to cuddle him, but someone who is at least willing to comfort him.  
  
"Gailethil. . .my best friend. . . ."  
  
Weakly Frodo leant against Merry's arm and allowed his cousin to ease him up enough for some sips of juice. He dranks, but the effort is weak and half-hearted, and more than once he hesitated, as if unwilling to take even another taste. Tears still dampened his pale features, and he trembled as if frozen through, though he felt burning hot to the touch.  
  
"Your friend..." Merry frowned slightly, he remembered the name and was trying to place the memory. He set the glass down and used a cloth to try and dry his cousin's face, but there's no water yet. "Pippin! Hurry up with that water." Merry called out to the hall. "Where can I find this...Gailethil? Can I get her for you?"  
  
There were voices outside, Sam was speaking with someone in the hallway, a feminine voice. Then there was a flurry of activity in the Kitchen and Pippin entered the room with a local healer, he was carrying a big basin of water with ice in it and a lot of towels, looking quite flustered and confused by what is going on.  
  
"Good afternoon, Master Brandybuck. . .how is Master Baggins?"  
  
The voice was clear and crisp as a winter's morning, but also warm and reassuring: Lilian Goodbody, the head healer from Bywater, entered the room and carried a large basket which she promptly set aside and strode quickly to the bedside. Bending over Frodo, she motioned Pippin closer, straightening for a moment as she sought a smaller cloth in the stack of towels.  
  
"I came as quickly as I could. Sam Gamgee tells me he's been in and out, and hasn't been able to keep anything down?"  
  
Frodo whimpered weakly, and moaned. "Merry. . . ."  
  
Merry smiled in relief at Lilian's entrance.  
  
"Thank-goodness. He has not eaten a thing in three days, ma'am, not since the Party anyway. He took ill late that night, and doesn't seem to be wanting to get better. He keeps asking for Bilbo...and someone named Gailethil. Do you have any idea who he's talking about? I think he's a bit delirious, in truth."  
  
Merry got out of the way so that Lilian can work. "There now, Cousin. Lilian's here, she's going to take a look at you. Mind her, will you?" Merry's tone was true "Master of the house". He seemed to have been directing this whole affair quite well and had taken control Bag End, managing to stall the throngs of Frodo's nosy relations.  
  
Pippin bobbed his head, and set down the basin. He brushed his masses of curls out of his eyes and peered curiously at his bedridden cousin. "Is he going to be okay?" he asked worriedly. "He hasn't eaten anything a'tall. It isn't natural. He can't live much longer without anything to eat, can he?" The younger hobbit's main concern of course was the fact that his older cousin wasn't eating. As far as Pippin's was concerned, not being able to eat might as well be the kiss of death.  
  
Lilian smiled kindly and found the washcloth. She set it in the basin of chilled water before she began to examine Frodo, undressing him as she worked.  
  
"He can, Master Took, I assure you. . .it is not good to go without eating, especially not so long as he has now, but he will not die from it. We do need to get him eating again, but it's most important of all that we find out what's the matter and try to make that better. If he doesn't wish to get well, then he won't, more likely than not."   
  
Frodo moaned, and she shushed him soothingly as she laid a cool hand gently against his forehead. "We'll have to get the fever down at once, though. . .that's partly why he doesn't feel up to eating, and it would explain the delirium."   
  
As she bent over Frodo, she wrung out the cloth and began to bathe his face and neck with careful strokes, her touch was light and practiced. "Master Baggins. . .I'm Lilian Goodbody, from the Healing House over at Bywater. Your cousins sent for me when you fell ill. Can you tell me whom it is you keep asking for. . .Gailethil? We'll help if we can, but we don't know what or whom that is, and until we know, we can't really do very much. . . ."  
  
Frodo shook his head weakly. "Never. . .mind. . . ." he murmured through his tears.  
  
Pippin nodded enthusiastically, happy that someone was here who knew what they were doing. From what he had heard of Lilian, he was quite sure she'll make everything alright again.   
  
"Can I bring anything from the kitchen?" he asks, "Sam and I can make whatever you need. Between us we can make anything in the shire, I'll wager." he puffed up his chest a bit.   
  
"My sister has been teaching me a lot of recipes for soups and broths and things, will that help? I don't much like them, but she insisted that I learn. Don't see the point, I don't get ill that often, and when I do…don't have to do anything anyway. What about to drink? is juice okay…or should he have something else? Gailethil…Hey Merry…isn't that the name that Aunt Emerald said you spelt when you were a kid? Funny that Frodo should mention it now. I remember how she was all on about how you were insisting that it meant something it didn't mean…what was it again? I don't remember exactly…" he scratches his head, "Anyway…what can we start doing in the kitchen, Ms Lilian? I sure would like to help…and…" Pippin paused for a breath.  
  
"Pretty." Merry took that moment to interrupt Pippin before he could go off on another tangent. "That's what I told Mother." he looked down at Frodo curiously, trying to remember. "I was really young though…so I don't really remember much."  
  
As she unfastened Frodo's nightshirt, Lilian folded back the covers and continued to sponge him down gently, her tone soothing as she spoke with him. "Master Baggins. . .I'm sorry we cannot help, but perhaps you can answer some questions for me so I can try and help you feel better. Your cousins are right here, and we won't leave you. How is your stomach feeling?"  
  
As she spoke, she pressed lightly against his small belly. Pippin's question caught her attention, though she listened to Frodo's answer first.  
  
Frodo shook his head. "Aches. . .all tight, and I feel sick. . .so sick. . . ."  
  
Lilian nodded understandingly before she looked back up at Pippin. "Thank you, dear. . .if you could prepare some light broth, something very simple and nourishing, easy to keep down, that would be best. Apple juice, or grape or cranberry, will be fine for him. . .though cracked ice is best if there's an icehouse. . .otherwise, cool water in addition to the juice. . . . Don't bring the broth until I tell you, though. And ginger tea. . .he needs some good, strong ginger tea; we can dilute it with apple juice and a little honey. That will ease the chills and bring his fever down a bit, while helping the nausea."   
  
She glanced over to Merry. "Has he had any upset lately? As I understand, Master Bilbo hasn't been seen, and left everything to young Master Frodo here. . .but that may account for it. If Bilbo was his closest family, he may be depressed. . .and that would be enough, in someone who was already falling ill, both to crush the spirit and to upset his stomach." She rubs the young hobbit's tummy with a feather-light touch, attempting to soothe him as she continues sponging him down with the cool cloth. "Is there anyone else he loves dearly. . .someone you might be able to send for, if no one can find his guardian?"  
  
As Pippin obediently hurried off to the kitchen, eager to help out, Merry bit his lip, he hadn't wanted to build up Frodos hopes because he wasn't certain that Angeline could make it on account of her being pregnant and all.  
  
"To tell you the truth ma'am. I sent for my mother's sister; Angeline Brandybuck. She took care of him when he was small, and told me to keep an eye on him here. I think she knew that Bilbo was leaving, Ma'am. I don't know of anyone else, though. She might though, she should be here sometime tonight...if they took the carriage...if she can make it. She's..." Merry turned a bit red. "Going to have a baby, so I did not know if she could come here."   
  
Merry thought a bit more at her other question, his responses slow and careful. Unlike his cousin, Merry tended to think before he spoke. "Come to think of it...he did seem to have a nightmare the morning of the Party...he was crying when he woke up. I know...because I woke him up. He wouldn't tell me what it was about though. Could that be part of it? There's an ice-box in Bag-End, I'm sure Pip'll be able to bring something."   
  
"Oh, dear. . .I can't imagine a much worse situation. . .poor poppet. . . . Yes, crushed ice would be good for him to eat, and yes, I suspect that could be part of it, though fevers often cause nightmares. More likely than not he was already ill and no one realised." She sighed and studied the ailing hobbit with concerned green eyes. "Let us hope Mrs. Brandybuck can come, and in the meantime we'll have to do the best we can: bring down the temperature with cool baths and compresses. . .keep a hot water-bottle against his stomach to ease the pain. . .ginger tea weakened with apple juice and honey to treat the symptoms and provide a tiny bit of nourishment until he can keep down broth and soup. . .and cracked ice, plenty of cracked ice and any sips of water or juice he can take to prevent dehydration. There shouldn't be any danger to Angeline if she comes: I suspect this illness is mostly due to exhaustion and grief, not to mention his constitution. But he is going to require a great deal of care, Master Brandybuck. . .and I cannot speak for the outcome."  
  
Frodo seemed not to understand Merry's words. . .he moaned softly, wincing as he was touched, though Lilian's massaging and sponging seemed to ease him a tiny bit.  
  
Merry's expression was grave, "I understand." as young as he was, the son of Saradoc Brandybuck had a good strong head on his shoulders and a way about things that made him easily much older than his years. Though he could laugh and cause pranks with the best of them, there was a seriousness about him that never failed to come forth when the time needed it.   
  
He frowned slightly as he remembered some of his mother's words. "I do remember a little bit now, Maam. I don't know if this has anything to do with anything. But My mother said that I insisted I saw a pretty lady dancing with Frodo when I was a child. Could that have been this Gailethil he's talking about? My mother says Frodo's always been a bit fanciful, his imagination seemed to get her down a lot. " He glanced towards the hallway.   
  
Surprisingly quiet, Pippin pattered in with a tray of ginger tea, crushed ice in a glass, and fresh apple juice, and a hot water bottle. He tried hard not to talk and looked as though Sam perhap told him to get in and out quick. He did seem to be bursting with questions though, and was doing a mighty fine job of restraining himself, considering his natural tendency. He took a deep breath and spoke only one sentence with great effort. "Sam says to say he's seen a carriage pulling up North Hill lane and is going to see if he can help." He smiled proudly at himself for managing to stop there.   
  
Lilian smiled approvingly and reached up to pat Pippin's arm as she took the hot water-bottle, and wrapped it in a soft towel before laying it carefully against Frodo's small tummy, nodding to Merry. "Good! Thank you, Master Took."   
  
To Merry, she pondered. "I don't know. . .he's also always been rather frail, to my understanding, and frequent fevers can do that, but if you think you know anything of her, then that might help: it could well be. Here now, help me get him out of his night-shirt. . .that'll do him no good; if he stays in it while it's damp from sweating, he'll get chilled, and moving him to change it as often as he needs is very bad for him; he needs rest."  
  
As she bent over Frodo, she cooed softly. "There now, Master Baggins. . .there's some nice crushed ice for you once we get you all settled. . .all right? Ssssshh now, there's a good lad. . . ."  
  
Frodo complied weakly and allowed Lilian to ease him up a bit. He sighed with relief as she lay the hot water-bottle against his aching stomach. "Want. . .Mamma. . . ." he murmured faintly, though, his blue eyes clouded with delirium.  
  
Pippin beamed, though his face lost a bit of that brightness when he saw Frodo's condition. However, hearing the front door of Bag End open and Sam talking with someone he was easily distracted. and..he rushed out to help.   
  
Merry helped Lilian with his cousin, his nimble hands of good assistance. "I don't know, ma'am." he shooks his head, "I've never met anyone named Gailethil. Its not really a hobbit name is it? Perhaps shes someone from one of Bilbo's tales?"   
  
Pippin returned; and opened the door quickly, ushering Angeline intos the room. About three months pregnant, she's wrapped from head to foot and followed closely by her husband, who is in the process of unwrapping the various bits and pieces hurriedly. "He's in here, Aunty. Hurry...."  
  
Once free from cloaks and blankets, the young ladyhobbit smiled warmly to Lilian, then approached the bed cautiously. "I'm so sorry it took us so long, Merry. We actually headed out -before- the party as Bilbo sent me a note too. I think he was concerned because the poor lad was sick a month before the party. We would have been here sooner but one of the carriage wheels had an accident and we had to replace it in Whitfurrows. Yours came to us on the road, would you believe. Frodo...Frodo dear. Hello there..." she smiled as brightly as she could for his sake as she came closer to the bed.  
  
"Aunt Angeline. . . ."  
  
The name escaped Frodo's lips as a weak cry. . .and he put out his arms, beginning to sob afresh. He had never been so glad to see anyone in all his life.  
  
Lilian shrugged at the question, nodding gratefully as Merry assisted her, though she smiled with relief as Angeline entered.  
  
"We're very glad you could come, ma'am. He needs someone he's close to just now: that will do more good for him than any medicine I can give. As I've assured Merry, there's no danger: he's a sensitive lad, and I suspect his condition has much to do with that." Since Frodo was out of his night-shirt, she carefully tucked the covers over him, deftly reached for the cup of crushed ice. She fished out a bit and put it to his lips even as he put out his arms for his aunt. "There now. . .just a taste of ice, Master Baggins. . .that's all. . . . It'll help you feel better. . . ."  
  
Angeline nodded carefully, "Laradoc was a bit worried about that, he fusses, dear that he is." she took Merry's place by Frodo's bed, glancing about for a moment as though she might have been looking for someone. She does not take her time however to gather the weak little hobbit into her arms, "Oh, poor sweetie. I'm here...there now." she rubbed his back gently, "Let it all out. Its okay to cry...and do try and take some of that ice, sugar, you need it."   
  
Laradoc and Pippin do leave the room, but Merry stayed on hand to help out if needed.   
  
Her condition did not seem to hamper her much to hold Frodo close as she soothed him gently. "How did this happen?" she asked Lilian, then glanced to Merry, then back to the nurse. "How long has he been like this?"  
  
Sobbing, her little charge clung to her, snuggling with relief as she cuddled him. Obediently he took the ice, though, and allows Lilian to slip a bit between his dry lips. He sucked on the bits of ice quietly as he nestles in his aunt's arms.  
  
Lilian nodded to Merry. "Master Brandybuck can tell you more, I think, but he fell ill the night of the party, and hasn't been well since. To be frank, Mrs. Brandybuck, your nephew was probably already becoming ill, and the strain of Master Bilbo's. . .disappearance. . .was too much for him. The combination. . ."  
  
She lowered her voice.  
  
". . .may prove fatal. I'm afraid that what he needs most right now is a great deal of care: lots of love and attention, plenty of fluids, complete bed rest. . .it's important he be made as comfortable as possible. There are a few medicines I can give, but without the sort of nursing he needs, they will be of absolutely no use whatsoever. I can stay and assist in caring for him, but he needs to always have someone close to him. . .the finest care in the world cannot replace that."  
  
Angeline clutched Frodo to her with a little tremor in her voice, "Oh Sweetie." She pulled back his damp hair with her warm fingers and cuddled him closely. With quick fingers, she arranges the hot water bottle back on his tummy. Clearly something else is troubled her as she looked about the room almost expectantly. "Has any medication at all been given to him? Did anyone give you anything yet Frodo?"   
  
It seemed a bit odd that she would ask Frodo the same question, but she does none the less. She wrapped both arms around the lad, "Don't you fret, sweetie, I'm here. There's a good lad." she encouraged softly as Lilian pressed the ice crystals into his lips. "You need liquid."  
  
"It doesn't matter," sniffled Frodo, sobbing. He shook his head at the question.  
  
Lilian, still feeding him bits of ice as he will take them, replies. "He hasn't had anything from me, yet: Merry can speak for anything before, but I have some chamomile-peppermint syrup that should help him sleep and possibly bring the fever down a bit, perhaps calm him a little. We can try some ginger syrup as well, though the tea we have here would be better for him. I'm very reluctant to suppress that cough yet, though, until we see how his lungs are. . .and we can't tell that until he's through the worst of this. . . ."  
  
Merry shook his head, "We tried...but he wouldn't keep it down, Aunty." he looked over at Lilian and nodded. "He hasn't really slept either. Not since he had that nightmare. I think that syrup would be a good idea." he helped Lilian when she needed it, quite a somber young lad at the moment.   
  
"A nightmare? What happened sweetie?" Angeline began to understand more than the others. "Honey, why doesn't it matter? You need to get better. You want to don't you?" she stroked his cheek gently and motioned for a cool cloth. Merry handed it to her and she dabbed softly at the tears, washing them away gently. "You've come of age...and everything here is yours now. You've got a lot to look to and plan, Sweetie."  
  
"Y-You have. . .Uncle L-Laradoc. . .and th-the baby," Frodo murmured, still sobbing piteously. "And B-Bilbo's gone away. . .and. . .auntie, S-Gailethil's gone. . . . It doesn't matter. . .I might as well be dead. . .there's nothing to plan. . .no reason. . . . I-I. . .I saw h-her. . .and h-he was there. . .and s-she was wearing that. . .b-bracelet. . . ."  
  
He gulped back tears as he tries to continue talking despite his shortness of breath.  
  
"She's. . .w-with him, or. . .m-maybe ill, or. . .or. . .d-dead. . . . I don't *want* to live. . .an-anymore. . . ."  
  
Giving an anxious sigh,,Lilian motioned to Merry to hand her the basket, her green eyes dark as she listens.  
  
Angeline tried to keep her expression soft, though clearly she's perturbed by this. She does not however, wonder who Gailethil is, in fact…she seemed to know exactly who Gailethil is. She used the cloth to clean his cheeks and dry his eyes. "Just because I am having a baby, Sweetie, does not mean I love you any less." and her words were warm and kind. "I know it might seem to be a lot of things, what you saw. Do you know for sure? I know that you love her sweetie, and whatever you saw hurt you. After all this time…after what she has done for you…are you going to give up without a fight? She may need you now, Frodo, if she is ill. You don't want to let her down, do you?" she nodded for Lilian to put a few more crystals into the weak hobbits mouth.  
  
Merry watched, concern in his eyes, he was not entirely certain what to make of it, but since his Aunt seemed to know what was going on, he does not interfere or as any questions.  
  
Lilian listened and frowned curiously, though she continued feeding the little hobbit bits of crushed ice. "Mrs. Brandybuck, if you know how we can find this person he wants, it would be best if we did so at once. . . ."  
  
Still tearful, Frodo shook his head a little. "I d-don't, but. . .sh-she'd be better off. . .I-I'm not like her. . . ." He began to cough a little, and dropped against her shoulder once more: his forehead felt burning hot to the touch against her, even through her autumn dress.  
  
Angeline took a small breath and rubbed his back as he coughs. "Is there something for his throat...we must bring down the fever." she ran her fingers through his damp curls, putting the cloth to his head.. "Gailethil is..." she glanced over at Merry who stepped aside but was ready to help if needed. "It is a little difficult to explain...Gailethil is not here, and she cannot come here...unless Frodo is ill...and she's not here now...so I'm not sure."  
  
She sighed, "Gailethil is his..." she smiled a little, "Well, Bilbo and I like to think of her as his intended, but we don't want to jump to conclusions just yet and were letting the little ones decide for themselves when the time was right and if everything...worked out. She's not a Hobbit, ma'am. Gailethil is an elf. She lives in Rivendell. She..." she strovet to explain. "She's seen to him since he was a small lad. Since he lost his parents. Like a good fairy, if you remember the old legends. She can't be sent for. She comes. But...I don't know what to do...she's not here. Usually she is. And from what I gather from the little one's vision...she might be in trouble and that is why he is so upset. You have to understand...she was with him since he lost his mama."   
  
She looked down to the small bundle in her arms. "Frodo, let Lilian give you something for your throat, please, Sweetie. "No...you're not like her...but she loves you. She might need you to be strong now. Can you do that for her, Frodo?"  
  
If Lilian is utterly convinced of the family's insanity, she controlled her feelings well. Nonetheless, she gave Angeline a curious look, rather dubious and shook her head.  
  
"I. . .believe you, Mrs. Brandybuck, difficult though it is for me to do so. . .but whatever you say. . . . And that would certainly explain it. If you can keep trying to calm him. . .the best will be just to get Master Brandybuck to hand you cool cloths well wrung out and to bathe him. . .I'll get some medicine for him if you can manage with that."  
  
She rose and goes to the basket, searching for a particular bottle.  
  
Frodo moaned and continued to cry softly, shaking his head and burying it into his aunt's shoulder, the back-rubbing apparently was the only thing that kept him at all calm at that moment.  
  
Merry looked quite stunned by the revelation. "Its true! I saw her...then...when I was a child." he gazed at Lilian. "She -was- with him. It was an elf I saw...!" he helps Angeline with the cool cloths instantly as the young mother soothed his cousin.  
  
"There now, sweetie. I'm sure she'll be alright and there will be a good explanation for everything. You just let it all out....its okay to cry m'dear, its okay to cry." Angeline dabbed the cloth against his cheeks and back and wiped at the sweat and tears.  
  
Her reassurances seemed to console him a little, but he continues to cry and clung to her almost desperately. Bit by bit, his sobs seemed to ease, and he calmed, her touch and the cool bathing soothing him.  
  
As she retrieved the bottle, Lilian returned to the bed and selected a clean spoon from the bedside table. She nodded to Angeline, her voice low.  
  
"We'll need to get him to take two spoonfuls of this if possible. . . ."  
  
Angeline was patient with the little one and let him cry as he might. She dried his tears with the cool cloth and held him close to her. "I think he might be able to manage that…perhaps with a bit of water first. Frodo…it will help you sleep?"  
  
"A-all right. . . ." He sniffled, and turned his head a little, allowing Lilian to hold a cup to his lips and coax a few sips of iced water into him before she administered the medicine. He took the medicine simply and without complaint, giving in as he clung to his aunt. "Wh-when will y-you be. . .leaving. . .a-again?" he added fretfully, still on the verge of returning tears.  
  
Merry had never before seen his cousin quite so miserable, he sighed a little, wishing there was more that he could do. Angeline clicked her tongue, "We'll be staying for a while, my pet. Don't you worry. I think perhaps we might…get a letter out to Rivendell. Laradoc knows where to take it. I don't know if it will help, but at least we might know what is going on. Do you want to write her a letter, Frodo? In the morning?" she stroked his curls gently and rocked him softly.  
  
He nodded weakly and snuggled against her.  
  
"Please. . .I. . .I'd like that. . .very m-much. . . . Please. . .please d-don't leave me. . . ."  
  
His eyes closed and his voice grows drowsy as he replies.  
  
"Mmm-hmm. . .if you say so. . .auntie. . .I'll. . .try. . . . Just. . .not. . .hungry. . . ."  
  
And as he grew drowsy she fluffed the pillows behind him and rocked him gently until he finally fell asleep., humming a little tune. Once he is, she smiled gently down at him and touched his cheek watching him for a few moments.   
  
Merry was extremely tired himself, having cared for Frodo for well over 48 hours without any sleep. He sat down on a stool nearby, yawning himself. She looks up at the drawings on the wall then down at the small hobbit. Once he is asleep, as best as he can be she looked to Lilian. "I'm sorry ma'am…that you had to be drawn into this. He's a special one…."  
  
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	25. The Face of Evil Rivendell 3001

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CHAPTER 24 -- Rivendell -- "The Face of Evil"  
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There is a silence to the room, save for silent tears and difficult breathing. Arwen took the her father's words to heart and had two attendants bring forth a bath. She was becoming worried about the paleness of the elleth's skin…and how cold she was. It was almost like touching a piece of metal after it had been outside so long and it was almost painful to do so. Yet, like the small elleth, she had to endure.   
  
The bath water was hot, as hot as one could possibly stand it, and the fumes of elderberry root rose from the smoky water. She undressed her cousin quickly, and left only the little bracelet that she wore, the bracelet that she seemed attached to and reacted whenever anyone tried to remove it. Arwen was sure that Frodo must have given it to her, so left it alone.  
  
She carefully settled the shivering elleth into the water. "Too…hot…" Gailethil gave a cry. But there was nothing Arwen could do. She continued to lower the elleth into the water, and lay her back against the edge of the tub, her head resting in Arwen's arms as she whimpered wretchedly. The fever had to come down, and this was one of the Secondborn's most drastic methods according to her father. And yet, Elves did not get sick, so Arwen was not entirely sure that it would succeed in helping Gail. The small elleth whimpered and lay against the side of the tub, her face drenched in sweat. Arwen took a cloth and began to bathe her face.   
  
An attendant stood nearby, preparing the towels. She glanced back towards the pair every now and again, and was evidently ready to help should she be needed. She wore a wrap about her face, sterilizing it. Her eyes were a very light azure blue, and her hair the color of sunlight. A rare beauty.  
  
"Frodo…" Gailethil whimpered softly, and complained a little, "Hot…" The steam was definitely helping her breathing to steady as was the gentle hands of Arwen who rubbed her back with soft soap.   
  
In the land of shadows, nothing had changed, he still waited, patiently. He knew as well as she did that one day she would cross that river. "Do not deny yourself." the White King remained as she sat on the other side, curled up into a little ball. "Come to us…follow your destiny."  
  
The elleth began to calm a little as the heat of the water soothed her, though she was still caught in the land of the wraiths…a warm light in the realm of death…though her warmth was becoming pale and cold slowly…slowly but surely as time wore on. She felt herself slipping towards the other side. It would be so easy…and she would no longer be in pain.   
  
"Where are you?" she rose from her position, looking around desperately. If she could find him…if she could find Frodo…She began to ran away from the river, into the forest. It loomed about her as she ran, the indistinct trees extended towards her, ripping at her gown with their hand-like branches as she fled from the White King. Once again he was in front of her and she turned, crying out and she changed her course to run in another direction. She fled for what seemed like eternity, but once more he was there…holding out his skeletal hand. She moaned "Noo…" and fled again, her fingers holding the skirts of her gown as her legs moved quickly over the ground. The ground changed from forest to jagged stone and began to sting her feet, ripping through the soles of her shoes. …and yet again…he was there.  
  
"Precious…" The White King's voice altered somewhat as he looked over to the right, and Gailethil's terrified eyes gazed at the burning flame that watched. The Great eye….lidless…loomed at first in the distance, but was coming towards her faster and faster. She screamed in terror, clawing to get away from the terrible heat…  
  
The elleth thrashed in the tub, and nothing that Arwen could do would calm her. While Elrond's daughter tried to calm the seer, the attendant with light azure eyes and hair the color of sunlight deftly slipped the bracelet off the elleth, her eyes glinting in the candlelight. She seemed to know exactly where the clasp was to release the trinket. This missed Arwen's gaze as the other was concerned with calming her cousin. The attendant smiled and slipped the bracelet into her pocket while no one was the wiser.   
  
Suddenly…Gailethil calmed, sobbing in Arwen's arms. In confusion, the Healer directed the attendant for a towel and she was lifted out of the tub and wrapped thoroughly in fluffy white. The bathing water was taken away and soon Arwen had managed to soothe the seer enough and wrap her in blankets. She checked her forehead, the fever was down…and she was no longer quite so icy cold to the touch. Her eyes had lost their glaze and seemed simply tired at the moment when they flickered a bit, gazing at her cousin in confusion.   
  
The Elleth attendant slipped the bracelet on the dresser near the bed, and stepped away, carrying the used towels, a small smile on her lips.   
  
Arwen glanced at the table and saw the bracelet…and it flashed through her mind for only a moment but she shrugged and figured she must have taken it off the elleth while she got her ready for the bath. Elrond's daughter continued to soothe her cousin, her fingers running through the terrified elleth's silky hair and though she was still feverish and ill…Gailethil was no longer in the land of shadow, but she had not yet been pulled back to the light.   
  
There was a haunted look to her gaze, and her body shook though it was neither cold nor terribly warm despite the fever.   
  
"Frodo…" Gailethil whimpered the name of her very best friend in the whole world. She needed him. She needed to know he was safe. She had a terrible feeling in her heart…a feeling that something was lurking just around the corner. A feeling that something waited…She looked up…and saw the attendant in the doorway…and for a brief moment thought she might have been her mother. But…what would her mother be doing in the House of Elrond. The eyes that looked back at her were devoid of warmth as they always had been since the moment of her birth. Torialas did not heal, nor did she care for the presence of others.   
  
It could not be here…she was just seeing things…Gail closed her eyes again, leaning against Arwen for support as the other elleth began to sing a soothing song as she coaxed little bits of ice and water into the Elf in order to bring down the fever. She felt…oddly free…relieved…yet also a great longing in her heart. She could not deny the temptation to go to the White King was great. The pain would then end…but then…what about Frodo?  
  
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	26. Wanting A Dream world? 3001

Author's note : This chapter details Frodo's feelings when being held by Gailethil. Not graphic, but detailed. Cuteness abounds…be warned. You probably shouldn't read this if you're under 18. I would not really rate this chapter 'R', but some folks might. It describes Frodo's desires in a round about way. So, in short : Read at own risk. Review please and tell me if you think the story should be rated R as a whole.  
There's a summary at the end.  
  
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CHAPTER 27 --- Wanting --- 3001  
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She shifted, feeling the sunlight in her hair. Strange…she could not feel anything, no pain…She opened her eyes. The sun was high in the sky and gentle clouds wisped by. She smiled, feeling altogether glorious and she stretched. She wore a dress of soft blue, bound at her waist by a white cord. Her hair flowed back behind her carelessly and she was barefoot in the warm grass of the hilltop. She sat up, pulling her legs to the side and smiled.  
  
Frodo lay just an arms-length away. He was in a silvery white shirt and pants, looking comfortable and peaceful. His breathing was even and his face was healthy and cherubic. He murmured a little in his sleep, turning around to face her, his curls falling over his eyes. It was the first time she had seen him…healthy and strong.  
  
The bed of grass they both laid upon was on a hill…somewhere in a chain of hills…somewhere…the air was sweet and warm and smelled of wildflowers and honey. The clouds seemed to go by a bit fast…and it was almost as though they were completely alone where they were.  
  
She reached over and stroked Frodo's cheek warmly. Her expression softened when he smiled, and his eyes fluttered open. He gazed at her in some surprise and struggled…without a great deal of effort, to sit up. He looked around, and found his voice.  
  
"…Where are we?" he breathed out, trying to clear his mind. "Gail…?" he reached over to touch her…hoping against hope that she was real. When she did not vanish…he almost fell into her arms, curling up. He rested his head in the crook of her arm and closed his eyes. "You're here…" he sighed contentedly. Whatever else…this was the only thing that mattered to him.  
  
"Yes." she stroked his curls fondly, "I don't know exactly where here is…I don't remember getting here…I don't remember…I only remember not being well…" she held him gently.  
  
"Me too…" he sighed a little, "I was wishing for you….is this a dream? Are we dead? I thought…thought you must be…" he whimpered a little. "You didn't come…I was so ill…" and it felt like a lifetime ago…"I want to stay here…can we? I feel…so good…no pain…"  
  
"I don't know, Frodo." she continued to stroke his head gently, soothing him. Though he really did not need it, he was healthy…and well. She let him cling to her though.  
  
"What happened to you?" Frodo ventured after a while, gazing up at her with his large blue eyes. "Where were you?"  
  
She smiled down at him, not really sure whether or not she should tell him, but decided that she must. "I was very ill Frodo. Caught…in a nightmare, I think. Arwen was tending me." she drew a breath. "I think…" she shook her head, "I don't know…"  
  
"Gail…" Frodo clung to her a little desperately. He did not want to imagine her being ill. She was his rock…the one person he could count on. "Be careful…please. I …" he gulped…not wanting to sound jealous…or possessive. "The bracelet…don't put it on again…" tears clung to his eyes threatening to spill over. "Glorfindel…I…" he strove to find the words to tell her what he'd seen.   
  
"There now…" she murmured softly, brushing his curls from his eyes, "He's just my friend, Muin. You know that…" she touched his chin, "You know who it is that holds my heart, do you not?"  
  
"Yes." he did know…his heart fluttered a bit and felt light in his ribcage as he gazed at her. He'd never before been able to do so with strength in his body. She'd only been around when he was ill and weak. His eyes were large and round as he stared at her. "Where ever we are…I don't want to leave." he swallowed as his eyes fell to her lips…and he became acutely aware of her. Surely she did not feel the same. She was so calm, so much more calm that he was. His mind raced. She…his heart's desire…she was here. His wish had come true…but could he accept it?  
  
If she noticed, she did not draw attention to it. Her gentle fingers stroked his cheek lightly in that fond way that always made him feel special, and she cradled him in her arms. He was content to be held and snuggled closely to her. If for the rest of his life, all she did was hold him…he'd be happy. This is where he wanted to be. This was his idea of bliss.  
  
The hobbit opened his eyes again and found her watching him, "What are you thinking?" he asked her in a timid voice.  
  
"I'm wondering how we came to be here, Muin." she whispered softly. "Someone must be reminding us of what we must hold on to. I do not believe we are dead…but that we might be dreaming…a different kind of dream than when I come to you."  
  
"Gail…?" Frodo gazed up at her.  
  
"Yes Frodo?"  
  
"I am going to come to Rivendell someday." he vowed. "Somehow…"  
  
"I know, Frodo." she kissed the top of his forehead lightly.  
  
A tingling sensation ran through him through when she did that and he closed his eyes. "mmm." he purred softly as she stroked his curls. He loved it when she did that. "Gail?"  
  
"Yes Frodo?"  
  
"You're my very best friend….I want to stay like this…" he wanted to say something else, but he did not have the courage. His stomach tied up a little in knots and he felt a bit lightheaded.   
  
She smiled, and he felt blessed to be touched by the light of her smile. He reached up and clasped his fingers in her hair, softly caressing it. "You're mine too, Frodo." she whispered back and hugged him gently.  
  
He had to find the courage somehow…while he was strong…who knew when this opportunity would come again. If ever…he had to tell her. But…what if…what if she did not feel the same way? What if…he couldn't bear the idea that she didn't. That he was not enough for her…He was only a hobbit after all…and she was an elf. Did he really even deserve her? Could he really expect to…he strove to control his emotions, they were spilling around him and though he did not know it…completely visible in his expressive eyes as he gazed at her longingly. Wanting what he could not have….or so he thought, anyway.  
  
"Frodo." she smiled at him. "My little Muin…" he could not know that she was feeling the same insecurities in her own heart. Her stomach was equally in knots, and butterflies flitted about therein. She tried to assess his emotions…to read what he was thinking, but she wondered if she only read something there because she wanted it to be. To him…she was like a mother…a best friend…a sister. He loved her, she knew that, but…she did not know more than that. She knew what she wanted him to feel…but she did not dare press the matter for fear of frightening him. And even then, she was as innocent as he, never touched, nor loved and the only kiss she had given was to him.   
  
"Frodo…I don't know how long we'll be here…but we'll wake…and…" she held him closer when she saw that her words were causing tears to build up in his eyes. "And be back to ourselves…please…hold on…I'll come to you when I can…I promise. I just can't now…I'm sorry…"  
  
"Gail…" he could not hold back the tears, as he stared up at her. "I'll try…I promise…" he promised softly, but he did not think he would be able to. He didn't want her to know the extent of what he had come from. If he did not survive…what if she never knew how he felt…he had to tell her. He was starting to feel sick again…pain…and was feeling as though he might be waking up. He didn't want to, he wished everyone would just leave him alone and let him stay where he was. "Gail…I…love you…" he whispered painfully, clinging to her.  
  
She responded in kind, "I love you too, Frodo." the voice came from far away…and the world was beginning to spin. He felt dizzy…and sick to his stomach…  
  
"No…" he whimpered. "No more than that. I need you…Gailethil…I love you…please don't go…come back…I'll be strong…I'll…" he fretted, tossing in the sheets next to his Aunt as both Angeline and Lilian tried their best to keep him calm. They had been trying to wake him from an unconscious state for a while now. He did not want to open his eyes…he knew she wasn't there…but…he'd promised her…and he sighed deeply…relaxing…letting them take care of him. For however long it took…he had to hang on to hope…Hope that she'd come…that she'd get through it too…that she knew he needed her…that he loved her. Tears sprang forth from his eyes and did not stop them. He lay where he was letting his Aunt and the doctor feed him, but he made no other sound, and he did not speak. He would wait…he would try…  
  
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AUTHOR'S SUMMARY : In summary : Frodo and Gail are caught in shadow realm, but not the evil shadow realm. The Valar are helping them get through a difficult situation through almost a dream. In the dream realm Frodo is for once healthy and strong and tries to deal with his feelings for his Best Friend, wondering if she feels the same way about him, and too insecure and timid to ask her. 


	27. Waiting Shire3001 Wrong Chap uploaded th...

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CHAPTER 28 : Waiting   
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Frodo lay in his bed, sighing. It hurt so much….and he didn't know how much longer he could go on. He'd written to her…he'd sent a letter to Rivendell. But would it get to her? He was anxious…asking for the mail every day. Still…nothing. Seven days passed….maybe more, he could no longer tell. He was drifting in and out and felt…woozy. He'd begun to refuse food and would only let them ply drinks into him. His Aunt Angeline was at her wits end and he'd heard them talking about how he was slowly wasting away.  
  
Was he really? He felt weak, and afraid. He felt that if she did not come to him…if she wasn't here by now…something terrible had happened to her. He felt it in his heart, a sickening feeling that would not go away. What would he do without her? She had been his best friend since his parents died. The only one who was able to truly comfort him. He saw her face when he closed his eyes, her bright smile…her soft hair.   
  
He was a fool to have waited so long…but every time…every time they were together…he wasn't strong enough. He…he had nothing to offer her. Not yet. All he really wanted was for her to be with him…for her to hold him in her arms. He would tell her…he would tell her for sure when he saw her again…if he saw her again.  
  
"Gailethil…" He whimpered in his sleep, feeling a cool cloth against his forehead. He looked up and saw his Aunt sitting there with him, holding his trembling hand.   
  
"Not today, Frodo, I'm sorry." she said gently, "Will you have a little soup…mushroom…your favorite…"  
  
"no…" he turned away to look at the other side of the bed, Merry was standing there, frowning softly.  
  
"Frodo…listen now." Merry's voice was far gruffer than it usually was. "You have to eat something. You can't live on juice and water. Come on now…listen to Aunty…You have to get better. What would Bilbo say?"  
  
That hit Frodo right between the eyes and he blinked…tears welling, "Bilbo…" he looked over at the soup, and then up at his Aunt. "It hurts…I'll just…throw up again…" his lower lip trembled.  
  
"You can do it Frodo." Merry encouraged him. It never ceased to amaze Frodo just how level headed Merry could be. "Its just a bowl of soup…almost like drinking really. "We've got a bath prepared too, and are going to change the sheets, it'll be a lot nicer in here. What do you say?"  
  
Angeline nodded, "I made it soft…like water, Frodo. Its only got mushrooms in it and it will go easy on your stomach sweetie. I promise."  
  
Gailethil…Frodo thought to himself…if he didn't get better…If he didn't at least try…He was…he was used to people leaving him. Maybe…well…he'd have to get used to the idea that he might never see her again now. He sighed resignedly and murmured without much enthusiasm. "Alright…"  
  
"That's a good lad, Frodo." Merry grinned cheerily. "Just a few spoonfuls, let your Aunty help you now." his cousin went about to prepare the bed for stripping down as his uncle Laradoc came in with a bathtub. Sam and Pippin both bore buckets of warm water.   
  
Frodo complied…but only barely…after the third one…he clutched his stomach in pain and shook his head, burying his face in the pillows. "N-no…" he whimpered. "No more…"  
  
"Oh Sweetie." Angeline put the soup aside and gathered him into her arms in a gentle embrace. Frodo continued to whimper, his tossled curls damp from sweat.   
  
Merry sighed and shook his head. He helped his Aunt to get Frodo ready for the bath while Pippin and Sam helped Laradoc. Finally, Frodo was lowered into the tub and Sam and Pippin went to stripping the wet sheets off of his cousin's bed while Laradoc returned to the kitchen to boil some more water.  
  
Frodo lay against the edge of the tub, not moving. His eyes closed, he was almost like a rag doll while his Aunt and Merry took the job of washing him. Still…she didn't come. His stomach was in turmoil…even the little mushrooms were threatening to come up at any moment and he felt dizzy.   
  
Frodo opened bloodshot eyes to stare at Merry, they were clouded over with pink and red from the fever. As striking as they were against the blue of his eyes he would seem almost like a tiny demon…were it not for the desperation in his gaze.   
  
Merry reached over and took his cousin's hand, holding it tightly as Angeline finished rinsing off Frodo's hair. They put him in a large towel and dried him off easily. He was so weak that he was hardly a challenge at all.   
  
They laid him in the new clean bed, arranging him against the pillows tenderly. Sam and Pippin were now gone from the room again. Though he felt clean…he was far from comfortable…but too exhausted to try and change position. His stomach though…he looked up at his aunt miserably. "Angeline…I'm going to…"  
  
They had a basin ready and Angeline rubbed his back softly while he lost what food was put into him. He then lay back as she wiped off his mouth and had him drink a little tea to get the taste out of it. Merry rubbed his eyes again. Even though Angeline and Laradoc were here…Merry hadn't got a great deal of sleep. He worried that his cousin was purposely trying to remain ill.  
  
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TBC 


	28. A letter from the Shire Rivendell 3001

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CHAPTER 28 : Letter from the Shire  
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Arwen spoke softly with Glorfindel, who sat on the other side of Gailethil's bed. The elleth had not yet come out of the dream she was caught in. It had been a week, and still she showed no signs of returning to them. The Princess of Rivendell knew that she was not in a good place, she was not with -him-. She was caught…somewhere else. Elrond had said as much when he'd come to see to her.   
  
"Will she be alright?" Glorfindel raised his eyes to Arwen. He had stayed at her side throughout the entire time and it was now clear to her where the Lord's heart was. Arwen gave him a tiny smile, though she was not altogether reassured by his presence. However, when he was not in the room, Gailethil seemed to grow more agitated. If she did not know her cousins' true heart, she might start to believe that it had changed its course.  
  
"I don't know." Arwen shook her head. "Father says that when such things occur we must ride them out for good or ill. My heart is heavy though…she has never been like this before." she was also concerned by her father even allowing the Elf Lord to be near Gailethil…after what happened with Legolas. "But I promise you this." she looked Glorfindel straight in the eyes. "I will not let her die. There is someone…who needs her more than either you nor I can even imagine."  
  
Frodo. Glorfindel sighed and nodded. "I know of him." he reached out and pushed the elleth's hair away from her damp face while Arwen dabbed at her cheeks with a cloth. "She told me."  
  
"Then you also know what is in her heart." Arwen's eyes glittered.   
  
"I know." his lips set in a thin line.   
  
"And you know that she can't love you when she already loves another." Arwen persisted, she wanted to know what was going on with this particular Lord. She did not trust him anymore…even though Legolas and her father insisted that she did. He made her uneasy, and she dearly wanted him to pay for leaving Legolas.  
  
Glorfindel took a deep breath and looked away, "I know. Must you continue with this line of questioning? What purpose does it serve now…when what she needs are people who care about her?" Pain was evident in his eyes and Arwen thawed just a little.   
  
"You really do love her." Arwen sighed as Gailethil began to toss and turn in the deep sleep that caught her in its coils.   
  
It was at that moment that a letter from the Shire arrived, carried in by a footman. Arwen glanced at it and frowned slightly, "Its from Frodo." she put the letter down on the bedside table. It was impossible for its intended to read it now.  
  
Glorfindel's brows knitted together, "They write?" this was something he had obviously not been aware of. He rose away from the bed.  
  
"Yes." Arwen nodded, "They've been writing for a while now."  
  
Elrond chose that moment to enter the room, with him were two guards. He walked over to his daughter, ignoring Glorfindel for the moment. Leaning down he whispered something to Arwen, then straightened and cleared his throat. "My Lord Glorfindel. You're under arrest."  
  
"Father?" Arwen raised an eyebrow, folding her arms.   
  
Glorfindel faced Elrond without fear. "What crime have I committed?" he lifted his chin proudly.  
  
"We have talked long and hard in council on the subject since you returned here. You will go with the guards, and your trial will commence once Gailethil regains conscious. I fear there is nothing that I can do, the council has spoken, and you know well our laws. There is evil at work and I would not have it gain a further hold on you, my friend." Elrond half-elven stood quietly, watching Glorfindel's reaction.  
  
"I will face your judgement." the handsome younger elf nodded softly. He looked over at Arwen, then down at the elleth in the bed. "Please…take care of her."  
  
"I will." Arwen nodded.  
  
Elrond had the elf lord escorted from the room and taken to the barracks. He himself, stayed behind and began to look around the room, searching.  
  
"Father?" Arwen looked up in some confusion.   
  
Finally, Elrond came to what he was looking for. The star bracelet., it was underneath a towel on the bedside table. He picked it up and scowled at it. "Tis a fell age, Arwen, when evil can hide in Rivendell."  
  
"How?" Arwen blinked in confusion.  
  
"Galadriel." her father smiled briefly. "She sent me a letter. Apparently she has sensed great danger for several weeks now and did not know for certain what was causing it until recently. She bade me to open Frodo's letter when it came for she was sure that it would hold the clue we needed."  
  
Arwen looked again at the letter, and noticed for the first time that it was open. She took it and pulled out the letter, feeling a little odd reading what was personally wrote for her cousin. She began to read in a clear voice,  
  
DEAR GAILETHIL,  
  
I'M SORRY I DIDN'T WAIT FOR A REPLY TO MY LAST LETTER…BUT I'M NOT REALLY DOING ALL THAT WELL…AND I'VE BEEN WORRIED. I WISHED YOU COULD HAVE STAYED THAT TIME…STAYED FOR MY BIRTHDAY.. I HAVE BEEN SICK SINCE BILBO LEFT. HE'S GONE, YOU KNOW…HE LEFT THE SHIRE. FINALLY…AFTER ALL THIS TIME. I KNEW HE WAS GOING…I COULD TELL HE WAS PLANNING TO AND I WISHED THAT THERE WAS SOMETHING THAT I COULD DO OR SAY TO STOP HIM, BUT IT DIDN'T SEEM THE CASE. MY AUNTY AND UNCLE ARE HERE WITH ME…YOU REMEMBER THEM? LARADOC AND ANGELINE…SO ARE MY COUSINS. THE DOCTOR SAYS THAT I HAVE PNEUMONIA, BUT IT FEELS LIKE SOMETHING A LOT WORSE…MY STOMACH WON'T KEEP ANYTHING DOWN. AUNTY ANGELINE IS WRITING THIS AS I SPEAK BECAUSE I CAN'T…I'M SORRY…I WISH YOU WERE HERE…WHY HAVEN'T YOU COME? YOU ALWAYS COME TO ME WHEN I'M LIKE THIS. I FEAR THAT SOMETHING TERRIBLE HAS HAPPENED BECAUSE I HAD A DREAM…I SAW YOUR FRIEND GIVE YOU SOMETHING…A LITTLE BRACLET WITH STARS…IT HURT ME…I FELT A TERRIBLE HEADACHE WHEN I SAW IT. PLEASE…DON'T WEAR IT…I …I KNOW IT MUST SEEM LIKE I'M JEALOUS…I'M NOT. PLEASE BE CAREFUL…I FEEL THAT SOMETHING BAD SURROUNDS IT. I DON'T KNOW WHY. I KNOW YOU MUST BE SAFE IN RIVENDELL, BUT I HAD TO WRITE. YOU KNOW HOW YOU TOLD ME ONCE THAT YOU WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR ME…PLEASE DON'T WEAR IT…TELL ME YOU ARE SAFE…I HOPE TO HEAR FROM YOU SOON.  
  
YOUR FRIEND…  
FRODO BAGGINS  
  
Arwen finished reading and glanced down at the bed, Gailethil's eyes were open and she was gazing at her cousin. 


	29. AwakeningRivendell3001

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Chapter 29 : Awakenings -- Rivendel 3001  
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Gailethil's eyes fluttered open to gaze at Elrond and Arwen. Arwen smiled and put her hand over her cousin's fondly. "You're awake, Mellon."  
  
She nodded, yawning a little and rubbing her eyes, clearly irritated by some kind of allergy…strange…because elves did not get sick.  
  
Elrond slipped the bracelet into a pocket and placed his hands together, smiling. "Thank Elbereth that you are returned to us, my dear. We did not know how much longer you would be asleep."  
  
"Asleep?" she stretched, "It doesn't feel like it…it feels like I ran for miles…why do I feel so tired?"  
  
"Tis not uncommon for a patient who has slept as long as you have to be tired wence they waken. Once Arwen read Frodo's letter…we were never happier to see you come back to us. You are weak still, niece, and I will not have you out of bed yet."  
  
Gailethil studied Elrond for a few moments before sighing. "Frodo?…" She swallowed then and looked between Arwen and Elrond. "Who? Who is Frodo?"  
  
Arwen gazed at her in shock for a long time, steadying herself against her father. "You can't mean..Gailethil…tell me…do you know who I am?"  
  
Gailethil nodded. "Of corse I do…You're Arwen…daughter of my uncle…Elrond. But…Tis a funny name…this Frodo…or is it a she? Frodo wrote me a letter you say?"  
  
"Yes…" Arwen glanced at her father who was frowning at Gailethil. "He's…Gailethil…I'm afraid I am a little confused myself…How could you forget Frodo? You Love him…you've said so before…and…"  
  
"Perhaps Gailethil needs to rest a bit…she will remember him soon, I'm sure." Elrond suggested grimly.  
  
"But Father…she needs to go to him…this letter…"  
  
"She cannot." Elrond shook his head. "I won't allow it. She is too weak."  
  
Gailethil lay where she was, watching her uncle and her cousin debating over whether or not she should go to this "Frodo."  
  
The sound of the name made her heart skip a bit…and…in her mind…a brief image flashed through. He had soft pale skin…thick, black, curly hair that always fell in his eyes…and a dimpleat a tiny cleft in his chin. He reached out to her and she drew him in her arms. He felt very good there…soft and fragile. She blinked, shivering. "its cold in here…" she murmured, interrupting the discussion.  
  
"Gailethil…we do not know why you can't seem to remember this Frodo…" Elrond began.  
  
Another flash…bright…large blue eyes that carried forever within them…Small…butterfly lips that were softer than the wings of a dove. Lips…that had touched her own. She brought her fingers up to hers in surprise.  
  
"Gailethil…did you remember something?" Elrond asked her gently.  
  
"Not really uncle…well..an image…" she smiled…and blushed a little. "May I see the letter?"  
  
Arwen nodded and handed her the copy. As Gailethil began to read, Elrond continued what he had been attempting to say earlier.  
  
"You fell into a deep trance…shortly after we discovered that Lord Glorfindel had returned. We've since come to several conclusions and have identified the cause of what ails you. Now that I can remove it from your presence…you will be well again…'  
  
"Frodo…" She said the name again. "But…Glorfindel gave me the bracelet…he's my friend…"  
  
"I fear that forces beyond our control were at work against him, Niece. We will soon get to the bottom of it. For now…I want you to rest."  
  
"It says here…it says that Frodo needs me." she glanced from Elrond to Arwen. "What did I do for him?'  
  
"You took care of him when I needed you the most, Mellon. You gave him your heart so that he would have strength in the coming years. You've known him….since you were a little girl." Arwen ignored her father's warning look as she knelt down beside Gailethil. "And he loves you too."  
  
"I feel…a memory…but nothing is truly clear…maybe if I go to him…" Gailethil looked hopefully at Elrond.  
  
"No." Elrond shook his head, "No…you are too weak."  
  
"Father…" Arwen's gaze rested on the Master of Rivendell. "Would it not be better to work with this? You know that we cannot control when she sees him and if she does that now…in her state…how can she get back? I think it would be wise to send her to Frodo by our means..rather than wait and have it happen by chance…"  
  
"We would have to designate a time limit…and we would be at risk…" Elrond nodded, realizing that what his daughter said was wise…yet also foolhardy. But it was either that…or lose what hope they now had of defeating the evil that was trying to sink its claws into Gailethil.  
  
"It sounds like he's having a difficult time…give her to him…at least until Yule..Father…That is enough time…we can keep vigil easier when we know what is going on and bring her back from time to time when it gets too dangerous. I dare not let it happen by chance father…I have a terrible feeling…"  
  
"So you say we must force her to this in order for her to remember…in order for her to remain in our control?"  
  
"Don't you see it's the only way? If he doesn't have her…you know what will happen. And she will need time to recover and time to remember him. I don't know what darkness was at work here…but I feel sure that it was meant to kill the connection between them…and I will not allow that to happen."  
  
Elrond paced back and forth for many minutes…Finally he nodded. "So be it."  
  
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	30. A New Pain Shire 3001

Author's Note : Frodo Baggins of Bag End helped with this chapter with Frodo's reaction.J  
  
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Chapter 30 : A new pain -- Shire 3001   
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There was nothing in the room but the sounds of the evening wind whispering against the trees. Another long night of restless sleep and endless waiting. Long hours of Angeline trying to get him to eat...and as time wore on it was easier and easier to sink into despair. No mail again the day before. It had become increasingly difficult for Angeline to get Frodo to eat anything at all. She had come in about 3 in the morning to see if she could coax some juice into him at the very least and found the covers thrown off of him as he tossed and turned in his sleep. He was soaked with sweat. She had patiently changed his sheets while he still lay in delerious, painful slumber.   
  
She slowly began to apply cool water to his cheeks, wiping away at the clammy sweat while his breathing remained irregular. "My dear Frodo..." she whispered softly. "I wish I could ease your pain." Angeline knew what was troubling him...he'd spoken of it often enough and indeed in his sleep. He feared what was happening to the strange elleth who was always there to care for him in times like these. She wasn't here now...and Angeline was worried that he might not want to get well for fear he might not see here again. She continued to apply the cool cloth, wiping down at his chest, and softly humming.  
  
He whimpered, beginning to cry afresh as he stirred in his sleep. "Gailethil. . . ." Frodo's fever seems to be worsening, rather than improving, and he grew increasingly restless, reaching out for beloved arms not there.   
  
"Oh…Frodo dear…Its your Aunt Angeline…Your friend's not here…" She leaned over and brushed at his curls. "I've some juice for you…you weren't sleeping well…did you have a bad dream, Sweetie?"  
  
He nods. . .and continued to cry as he clung to her. "Auntie. . .make it stop. . .please. . . . I don't know wh-why she hasn't come. . .something awful must have happened. . . ." He shakes his head at the juice whimpering again, "I can't. . .it hurts. . .though I *am* thirsty. . . ." Sniffling, he curled into a tiny bundle, his mop of dark curls damp against his brow.  
  
Angeline coaxed him over to her side, turning the small bundle around even as he struggled against her, unwilling to face reality. "Frodo, sweetie…please…its apple juice…your favorite. I know you've been throwing up before…but…you haven't had anything today…" She took the cloth and wiped Frodo's forehead again tenderly. "I'm sure…sure that she's okay….she might just have….be having trouble coming here."  
  
He shuddered…but slowly began to uncurl, finally nestling into her arms and yielding the struggle at last. He opened his eyes then and conceded to look toward the cup, daring to consider a sip.  
  
Angeline sighed softly and held him, one arm gently wrapped around him. She held the glass near while he contemplated drinking. "Frodo…I know you're worried about her…but you must get strong again…even…even if it means you must do it on your own…I'll be here with you…all the way"  
  
"I can't. . . ." Still he sniffled. . .but cautiously he ventured a tiny sip, barely enough to moisten his parched mouth. . .though this was at last followed by another. . .and another.  
  
"Frodo sweetie…slow down…or you're going to make yourself sick again…" she held the glass away again but kept it near, fearful he might be taking too much at once for his condition. "Take a few breaths there…that's a good lad." She smiled gently and stroked his head with soft warm fingers.  
  
He stopped drinking and pressed his small face into her shoulder, trembling. "That's all. . .can't. . . ." He was feeling a sharp pain in his stomach that was building rapidly and he knew that he could not take anything more.  
  
Angeline frowned softly, "Frodo...I'm going to go get a pot of tea instead….Ginger tea...I think it will help your stomach, can you lie here for just a little bit?I won't be long, Sweetie, I promise."  
  
He nodded weakly, he just wanted to lie there and perhaps the pain would go away. He relaxed his hold enough that she was able to ease him back onto the bed. "All right. . . ."  
  
Angeline kissed him softly and whisped quickly out of the room. For a while…he laid there in the silence of his room late at night. Only a single candle flickered by his bed, and the fire danced weakly in the fireplace. It seemed…altogether lonely to him.  
  
Frodo knew that something was terribly wrong with his stomach. The pain was more than he could bear sometimes. He also knew that it was not because he hadn't been eating…it was something else…something that was eating away at him. There were times when he was in so much pain that he thought he might faint from it. The doctor was chalking it up as pneumonia…but he hadn't told her about his stomach yet. He sniffled, they always liked to find the easiest route when it came to him. Frodo had had pneumonia before, certainly…but this wasn't like the other times. He had never been in this much pain from drinking or eating.   
  
Normally…he would have told the doctor about what was going on…but he…didn't have the heart for it. He didn't care anymore…if something had happened to her…if she was never going to come back to him. If…she was with *him* now…he would rather not deal with it. Everyone he'd ever loved had left him or something terrible had happened to them. He stared at the ceiling weakly, he had his cousins…his Aunt…But his Aunty was pregnant again…and had children of her own. She barely had time for him anymore and was only here because Merry had sought for her. Why did this have to happen to him again…He sighed wearily and turned over to curl up into a little ball. She wasn't coming…  
  
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End file.
